


The Black Wolf

by icybluepenguin



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Biting, F/M, Mystery, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Assault, Temporary Amnesia, Victorian, talk of character suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 05:20:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1766980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icybluepenguin/pseuds/icybluepenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman finds herself at a lonely manor in the English countryside with no memory of who she is.  There is something strange about the two brothers who live there and she is determined to figure out what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by those first few Crimson Peak images of Tom in his black cravat and coat.

I ran.  

I ran in the misty dark, half-convinced this was a dream and I would wake safe at home any moment.  The moon did little to light my panicked flight through the forest as I heard the wolf again in the distance.  I wanted to scream in fear, but knew I couldn’t waste the breath.  My feet stumbled over roots and divots, branches whipping at my face, my shoes sliding on the fallen leaves.  I risked a glance behind me when I heard the howl again, closer, and slipped to the ground.  White hot pain spiked through my head.  I don’t know how long I sprawled on the ground, dazed, but the sound of the wolf even closer spurred me on again.  I staggered to my feet, lightheaded, and began to run again.  But not as fast as before, my head aching and a fierce stitch throbbing  in my side.

 

Soon I could hear the wolf’s claws scrabbling on the ground nearby.  It was gaining on me quickly.  Dizzily, I looked around, finding a tree with some low branches that looked climbable.  I angled towards it as my only option, tripping and stumbling even more than before.  My breath was harsh and ragged in my ears and it burned in my throat.

I crashed into the tree trunk, bracing myself with my hands as I pushed off it to find the nearest branch.  I heard a low growl and spun to see the wolf only a few yards from me.  I was frozen with panic now, back pressed against the trunk of the tree, chest heaving.  I was staring death in the face, I knew.  My limbs felt heavy and weak, unable to lift even to shield my face.  My head swam as the beast got closer until I could clearly see its yellow eyes.   I couldn’t look away from those eyes, even as it snarled and took another step forward.

“Stop.”

I looked around frantically, breaking eye contact with the wolf in a surge of hope.  Had I really heard a voice?  I couldn’t see anyone, was I just hallucinating, wishing for help?

“Come here; leave her alone.”  I could see him now, barely, a man dressed all in black.  The moonlight showed his pale skin, making him almost appear as a floating head and hands.  Who was he?  Why was he here, and was the wolf… listening to him?  The beast went over to the man and sat on its haunches.  The man came closer to me, a little closer than was proper.  I couldn’t see his expression in the shadows and I shrank back against the tree.

“Hush, Miss, we won’t hurt you,” he said in a low, soothing voice.  “He’s just anxious tonight.  How did you come to be here in my forest?”

I couldn’t answer, my heart pounding.  I tried, but all that came out of my burning throat was a hoarse squeak.

"Almighty, you’re bleeding!”  The stranger gestured to my head and then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.  He offered it to me silently.

I raised my shaking hand to my temple and felt something warm and slick there.  I looked at my fingers and saw dark blood, wavering on my feet.  “Oh.  Oh, I…”  My eyes rolled up in my head and everything went black.

*****

I woke slowly on a comfortable couch, covered with a soft blanket.  There was a fireplace to my left and the room was dimly lit by a few candles in addition to the firelight- it was clearly still night.  There was a bandage on my head.  I could hear voices arguing just outside the door, but couldn’t make out what they were saying.  I sat up gingerly, touching the bandage on my head, wincing at the tenderness there.  I couldn’t see much around me, but it seemed I was in a parlor of some sort.  There was a small table with a chessboard nearby and books on a desk along the wall.

The door opened and two men came in.  I sat a little straighter, clutching the blanket to my chest.  The wolf from the woods trailed in after them.  No, it couldn’t be a wolf.  It must just be a large hunting dog of some sort, if it were in the parlor.

“Good evening, Miss,” said one of the men.  He had lighter hair, although I couldn’t tell exactly what color it was in the dim light.  The other was the man from the forest, dressed in black with dark hair and pale skin.  Both were extremely tall and I had to crane my neck back to look at their faces.  “I am Lord Edgar Wray and this is my younger brother Sebastian.  He brought you back here to our manor, Rookcliffe.”  The man from the forest didn’t look at me, instead moving to the chessboard to fiddle with the pieces, the hound trailing him.

“I’m- I’m pleased to meet you, milords,” I said shakily, trying to maintain a bit of proper decorum.

“We were wondering… Who you are and how you came to be running through the forest so late at night.”  Edgar’s voice was polite but strangely suspicious, as if he thought that I was skulking in the woods for nefarious purposes.

I opened my mouth to answer, slightly offended at the insinuation, but words failed me.  I felt dizzy all of a sudden and I closed my eyes.  “I… can’t remember,” I whispered in panic, scared at my lack of memory.

“You can’t remember?  Not even your name?”

“No, nothing…  I can’t remember.”  I trembled.  Who was I?  Why was I in the woods late at night?  How did I get here?

“Well, you hit your head pretty badly, Miss,” Edgar said placatingly, putting a kindly hand on my shoulder.  “Perhaps it will come to you in the morning.  You can stay here tonight and we’ll discuss further action tomorrow.”

They introduced me to their maid, a very elderly woman.  She looked old enough to have witnessed the founding of England itself, tottering and squinty-eyed.  Her name was Mary and she showed me up the stairs and through dark corridors to a bedroom.  She wandered off without so much as a goodbye, leaving me to enter the room by myself.  There was a fire lit in the hearth and a few candles lit, giving the room a welcoming glow.  There was a large four-poster bed dominating the room covered with a decadent-looking satin quilt.  A large bay window took up much of one wall, with a vanity and desk taking up another.  I had just enough energy to splash some water from the ewer on the vanity on my hands and face before I stripped down to my shift and crawled under the quilt, falling into an exhausted stupor.

*****

I woke from a fitful sleep to the sound of pounding rain on the window.  I was confused where I was momentarily, looking around the room.  Then I remembered being chased by a wolf and rescued by a handsome, dark-haired man.  I had hit my head… I raised my hand to my head and felt the bandage.  I slid out of bed, going to the vanity to look.  I unwrapped the bandage and was surprised to see that the wound didn’t look terribly bad.  There was a large bruise and an ugly gash on my temple, but it was scabbed over and didn’t seem to need more attention.  I gazed carefully at my face in the mirror.  It didn’t look unfamiliar, but I couldn’t put a name to the face.  Everything before last night was just a… kind of grey blur in my head.  I couldn’t remember where I had come from, my station, nothing.  I shivered.  It was terrifying to know nothing about myself.

I looked for my dress, abandoned on the floor where I had dropped it last night.  Holding it up, I sighed.  The skirt was filthy with mud and ripped in multiple places.  The bodice wasn’t in much better shape.  I would have to find a way to wash and mend it, since I didn’t have anything else.  I made a face as I put the dress back on.  I would definitely have to wash it today.  It was of good-quality linen and silk and had probably been new before my flight through the woods.  So I wasn’t a servant or worker- at least the daughter (or  _wife_?) of a someone wealthy, if not a member of the nobility.  

I slipped on my shoes- also the worse for wear after last night- and went in search of my hosts.  I had only a vague memory of which turns Mary and I had taken to get to this room and hoped I’d be able to find the parlor or dining room on my own.  Not that I had another option, since no one had come to fetch me.

As I walked down the hall, I noticed there were a few paintings covered with dark cloth.  Had there been a death here recently?  Looking around to see if anyone was nearby, I peeked under one of the cloths.  The frame was empty.  The painting had clearly been cut out of the frame- there were bits of canvas were still attached in places.   _How incredibly odd,_  I thought.   _Why not just take down the frames?_

I made my way down the stairs and went to the left.  I think I had come from the right last night, so perhaps the dining room would be this way.  I assumed that the household would be there for breakfast.  I had guessed correctly and soon found an open double door leading into a large room.  This room had an inlaid wooden floor, although much of it was covered by the massive table in the center.  Dark wooden chairs upholstered with green velvet lined the sides of the table, which was covered in a cream table cloth.  Along one wall was a long sideboard and my stomach growled at the scent of porridge coming from the tureen there.  

Edgar looked up at my entrance, seeming surprised to see me for a moment, then smiling kindly.   Sebastian sat halfway down the table, stirring a bowl of porridge absently while reading a book set next to him.  He was dressed all in black, except for the white collar of his shirt peeking out above his cravat.  He didn’t acknowledge me as I took the seat across from him.  The dog lounged at his feet, a massive shaggy black creature with yellow eyes.  Edgar sat at the head of the table, bowl empty and tea cup in one hand.

"How are you feeling today, Miss?" Edgar asked.  His hair was a sandy blonde and cropped short, I saw, and his eyes were a lovely shade of blue.  He was a very handsome man.  His face had a classical look, as if he were a statue come to life, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw.  I could see the resemblance between him and Sebastian, although the younger man’s skin was paler and his hair a dark auburn, the wavy locks brushing the collar of his coat.

"I feel much better than I did last night.  Thank you for your hospitality."  I looked longingly at the tea service on the sideboard.

Edgar noticed, waving at the food.  ”We’re not formal here, Miss.  Mary has enough to do taking care of this house without waiting on us too much.  If you wouldn’t mind serving yourself…?”

I didn’t need a second invitation.  I sat back down a few minutes later with a large bowl of porridge liberally laced with honey and a hot cup of tea.  I wondered why they didn’t hire another maid, but didn’t dwell on it as I sipped the tea.  The hot liquid gave me a fortifying warmth in my belly.

"Do you remember how you came here?  Or your name?"

I sighed in frustration.  ”I wish I did, milord.  It’s quite unsettling not to know who I am.”  

"I can only imagine."  He looked thoughtful for a moment.  "After you’ve finished your breakfast, Miss, I’ll lend you our carriage and groom to take you to the nearest town of consequence.  I’m sure there is a doctor there who will be able to help you."

"Have you looked outside, brother?"  Sebastian spoke without raising his head from his book.  "It’s pouring rain.  By the time the carriage is ready, the road will be completely impassable.  You know how it gets in the rain."

Edgar glared at the other man’s bowed head.   ”Well, she can’t stay here.  You know that.”  He emphasized his last sentence oddly, almost biting off each word.

Sebastian looked up from his book, first at me, then at Edgar.  ”I don’t see another option.  You can’t very well send her off only to be stuck in the mud two miles out.”

"Please, milords, I don’t mean to be any trouble…" I trailed off.  I might not _mean_  to be trouble, but clearly I was- no memory,  no money, not even a second dress.  And it seemed as if I had stumbled into a situation where I was not welcome.

Edgar was rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb, obviously annoyed.  ”It’s not you, Miss.  The road here is quite bad and becomes impossible to travel by carriage or horse in heavy rain.  My brother is correct; it would be… best if you stayed here until the road is dry.”  He did not look at all happy about it.  He shot Sebastian another glare, which he didn’t see, having turned back to his book.

There was a tense silence while Edgar finished his tea.  “Fine,” he said reluctantly as he stood.  “Miss, you are welcome to stay at Rookcliffe until the weather clears.  Please make yourself at home.  There are quite a few books in the library since, as you can see, my brother enjoys reading more than he ought.  Please stay away from the east wing, that is for family only.  Mary can show you around and help you with anything you need.  I must return to business.  I wish you a pleasant day, Miss.”  

He stopped when he reached Sebastian’s chair and leaned over to whisper something in his ear.  Sebastian’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing in return.  Edgar left the room, leaving an awkward atmosphere behind him.

I ate my breakfast as quickly as possible, but once the porridge was finished, I found that I wanted to linger over another cup of tea instead of returning to my room.  Sebastian hadn’t moved, ignoring me completely.

"What are you reading?" I asked, craning my head a little to try and read it from across the table.

Sebastian didn’t look up.  ”It is a book on natural history.”

"Oh!  Who is the author?  Is it new?"  I was genuinely curious and realized that I enjoyed natural history.  Who had I been?

"Are you interested in natural history or just in bothering people trying to read?" he sighed with annoyance, eyes still glued to the book.

"I’m quite interested.  It’s not my fault you are rudely reading at the table, leaving me with no entertainment but to bother you.  What is the particular thrust of this book?"

That seemed to break through his shell a bit.  He finally looked up to see me anxiously trying to get a glimpse of the pages.  He smiled then, a brilliant smile that made my heart flutter a little.  It changed his whole face, making him less severe and rather charming.  He began to tell me about the particular animal he was reading about, a species of bird, and I was struck by his voice.  I barely listened to what he was saying, caught up in the almost velvet tones.

After a lively discussion- apparently I could remember quite a bit about natural history, but not my own- he flipped to a page with a diagram showing migratory patterns.  Rather than make him push the book across the table to me, I quickly stood and walked around to his side so we could look at it at the same time.  He visibly stiffened as I sat beside him in an empty chair and leaned closer to look at the illustration.

When we had exhausted the topic of migratory birds, or at least exhausted our interest in it, I glanced down to see his dog watching me while lying at Sebastian’s feet.  He had the most interesting eyes that I had ever seen on a dog, almost human in their expression.

"What is his name?" I asked politely, holding out my hand for a sniff, though the dog still intimidated me after his chase last night.  The dog sniffed my hand and made a whuffing noise.  I resisted the urge to yank my hand back when a hot, damp tongue brushed my fingertips.

Sebastian suddenly glared at me, a protective and angry look on his previously open face.  ”He is not some pet dog,” he growled.  ”He does not have a simple little word to describe him.”  

I had clearly offended him, although I didn’t know how.  ”I only thought it would be polite that I should call him something other than ‘that dog’, since he is obviously important to you.”

He looked down at the dog and I could have sworn that they exchanged glances in a silent discussion.  Sebastian’s lip curled up in distaste briefly before he looked back at me.  ”He says you can call him Pack.   _And_ _he is not a dog_ ,” he snarled.

"Are you… He is actually a  _wolf_?” I asked in utter disbelief.  A wolf, living tamely in a manor house?

"Excuse me.  I have business to attend to."  His voice was suddenly cold as he pushed himself away from the table and gathered his book.  I felt like I had done something terribly wrong, but I had no idea what.  I watched him stride from the room, trailed by Pack, stunned by the abrupt change in his mood.  It was only after returning to my room, having acquired a sewing basket from Mary, that I thought there was something odd about his phrasing.   _He says you can call him Pack._

*****

I had mended my dress as best I could, but it was a pathetic thing still.  Some of the tears were just too large to be properly fixed.  I would have to wash it just before I retired and hope that it was dry enough to wear by morning, since I had nothing to wear in the meantime.  I put the dress back on with a sigh and went down to dinner.

The scene was nearly the same as at breakfast, with Edgar at the head of the table and Sebastian’s head buried in a book and his… wolf at his feet.  A roasted chicken graced the sideboard with a platter of potatoes and bread.  It was simple, but smelled delicious.  The men had waited for me to arrive before starting and as I entered, Edgar stood to serve me himself.

I thanked him quietly as he placed a plate of delicious looking food in front of me.  There was already a glass of ruby wine poured for me.  I noticed that Sebastian had no wineglass.

“Since it appears you’ll be staying with us for a while,” Edgar began, spearing a potato with his fork.  “We should have something to call you besides Miss, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I suppose you’re right.”  I thought for a minute.  “Did you have any ideas?”

“How about… Beatrice?”

I made a face.  “Oh no, not Beatrice.”

“Rufina?  Matilda?  Fidelia?”

I struck down his suggestions, unable to see myself answering to Fidelia.  He continued, his suggestions alternating from the old-fashioned to the silly.  I giggled at some of them as I shook my head.  Edgar had a twinkle in his eye as he thought about each name, smiling and laughing a bit himself.

“Ah, I have it!  Hortence,” he said triumphantly.

“Hortence!”  I covered my eyes with the back of my hand and pretended to swoon.  “I have been struck down by your terrible suggestion, sir!”  There was laughter all around for a few moments.  I even saw Sebastian trying to hide his chuckling in his book.

When we had calmed, there was a lull in the conversation.

“Lily,” Sebastian said abruptly, looking up at me.  My heart stopped for a moment at the look in his eyes, open and unguarded.

I nodded slowly, mesmerized by his eyes.  Such an unusual shade of blue- almost grey, with a distinct darker ring around the outside.  He was stunning in a way completely different than his brother, though they shared the same strong jaw and sharp cheekbones.  “Yes,” I murmured.  “Lily.”

Edgar watched the look we exchanged, his face twisting slightly.  “Very well.  Lily.”  He inclined his head towards me.

Again, there was silence but this time it was heavy with unspoken things.  I wondered what was between these men that they seemed to both love and hate each other at the same time.  I tried to strike up conversation by asking about the manor and grounds, but was met with clipped, uninformative answers.  The rest of dinner passed slowly, with only a few words spoken.  I was relieved when the meal was over and I could escape back to my room.

*****

The next morning after breakfast, which had included another lengthy discussion on birds with Sebastian once Edgar had left, I approached Mary about my dress problem.  The old maid was a little slow and sometimes forgetful, but she could be very helpful if I was patient with her.

Mary looked at me thoughtfully.  “You’re certainly right, Miss Lily, you need another dress.  That one is all tuckered out.”  She looked around the kitchen, as if a dress would appear in the corner if she just looked hard enough.  “You’re bigger than the Lady was, but maybe I’m remembering wrong.”

Mary stood slowly from her stool.  I could nearly hear her bones creaking.  Why didn’t Edgar get another, younger maid?  Surely Mary should have been allowed to retire by now.  I followed Mary up a back staircase from the kitchen.  We emerged in what I assumed was the forbidden east wing where the family lived.  I was nervous, but I had Mary as an escort, so it was likely fine.  I didn’t want to cause more trouble than I already had.

Mary stopped at a large wooden door and searched her chatelaine for the key.  I noticed there was another fabric-covered painting just down the hall.  I wondered who had been in that painting.  Door unlocked, we entered the dark room.

And dark it was.  The thick velvet curtains were drawn shut and the only light was from the hall behind us.  Mary marched across the room without hesitation and flung open the curtains, setting loose a shower of dust.  There was dust everywhere in this room.  Clearly it hadn’t been used in years.  Mary’s footsteps showed on the floor but no others.  The huge four-poster bed was covered in dust as well, the quilt still on the mattress which struck me as unusual.  Most people would have removed any expensive bedding before closing off a room.

Mary was standing in front of a huge wardrobe, rifling through the interior.  She pulled out a few dresses and handed them to me.  I could tell immediately that they wouldn’t fit.  Whoever these belonged to had nothing resembling hips, or a bosom either.  She was a bit shorter than me, as well, and I wasn’t particularly tall.

“Who wore these?” I asked, admiring the fine cloth.  What a waste to have them packed away in this closet.

“Lady Geneve,” came the muffled reply from far in the wardrobe.  “Bless her soul.”

Geneve?  Had she been a she a sister?  Mother?  These didn’t look like a matron’s clothes.  Before I could ask, Mary emerged with another dress, this one in a deep red and began chattering away while she took the dresses from me and began laying them out on the bedspread.

“The poor dear.  She was never right in the head, if you ask me, but those boys were always after her.  Oh the ruckus they’d put on if they thought one of them had her favor.  She was the youngest over at Pine Crest, you know.  She was just a little slip of a thing, hardly anything to her even when she reached womanhood.  Not healthy to be that waifish, far be it from me to speak ill of the dead, of course.  They were hardly married a year…”  She shook her head sadly, trailing off.

"What happened?" I was hesitant to ask, in case she decided to stop talking, but I had to know.

"Poor dear killed herself."  Mary crossed herself.  "Rode a horse to the sea cliffs just north and was standing there, just as the boys came thundering up to stop her.  Stepped right off the edge, she did."

"Oh, that’s terrible," I whispered.  I didn’t know which was worse- that Geneve had killed herself or that the brothers had been close enough to see but too far to stop her.

Mary shrugged, in the way old ladies do about the impetuousness of youth, too far removed from them to get upset.  ”It was a tragedy, to be sure.  Hmm,” she said, looking me over carefully.  ”I don’t think any of these will fit you, Miss, I’m sorry.  I’ll just put these away, then, and we’ll have to think of something else.”

I gave the room a lingering last look as Mary put away the dresses and closed the curtains.  No wonder now why this room had been abandoned so completely.  It was Edgar’s marriage chamber, filled with reminders of a lost love.


	2. Chapter 2

Time passed slowly at Rookcliffe.  The rain continued, changing occasionally from a heavy downpour to a light drizzle or back again.  Mary had found a bolt of cloth tucked away in a closet and we had set to making a new dress of it.  With both Mary and me working on the dress, it was moving along quickly enough.  It would be a simple, nothing like the one I had arrived in, but it would be nice to have second dress to wear.  And I had to admit that the deep red color was stunning.  Afternoons were mostly spent with Mary, sewing.  But mornings were occupied by Sebastian and his books, discussing and arguing all sorts of topics.  

 

I arrived before Sebastian for breakfast one morning.  Edgar was there as usual; he appeared to be an extremely early riser.  As I was sitting down with my porridge and tea, Sebastian strode into the room, two books in his hands.  He deposited one in front of me with a small smile.  As he did, his arm brushed mine and a shiver ran through me.

"This is the one I told you about yesterday.  It’s sure to make your blood boil with the inaccuracies."  He poured himself a cup of tea and sat down beside me with his own book.  Every day he was friendlier to me; when I first arrived he had seemed uncomfortable around me.  This was the first time he’d moved so close to me; usually it was me who moved to be nearer to him.  Pack laid down between our chairs, his substantial weight pressing against my leg.  I reached down to scratch his ears without thinking, forgetting that he wasn’t a dog.

Sebastian watched my hand for a moment, a strange look on his face before returning to his breakfast.  He opened his book and began to read.  I pretended to look at the book he had given me, but in reality I tried to study him inconspicuously.  My eyes were drawn to his distinct profile- his straight nose and beautifully shaped jaw and his pale ear touched by a loose, dark curl… I had a sudden urge to run my tongue along the shell of his ear, brushing back that curl with my fingers.  Warmth surged through me at the thought, curling between my legs.  I shifted in my seat, squeezing my legs together.  I stared at my book and hoped my face hadn’t become too red.  

I couldn’t deny that Sebastian was a stunningly handsome man and he stirred things inside me that I hadn’t known existed- not that I knew much about myself with my memory gone.  There were more and more moments like this for me, when I would look at him and imagine his thin lips pressed to mine in a passionate kiss or running my hands through his auburn hair.  Once, I found myself imagining what his body looked like under his clothes, itching to untie his cravat to caress his neck.  

My eyes wouldn’t focus on the words in front of me.  My mind was wandering, thinking about Sebastian and his smile, the rare times I had seen it.  There was something about him that hinted at a deep pain or maybe an intense loneliness.  I couldn’t remember why, but I could identify with those feelings.  I wondered what had caused his pain and why he was so reluctant to speak about himself.

I was smitten with him, I knew- with his mysterious, charming manner, his good looks, and his thoughtful discussions.  Even his occasional outbursts of temper intrigued me. I was glad for the rain that kept me stranded here, with him.  And, of course, his wolf.

Today, though, it looked like the sun would make an appearance.  I could only hope it was temporary, but I thought I would take advantage of it while it was here.

"Would you come for a walk with me, milord?  Show me the grounds a bit while the weather is pleasant?" I asked him when he seemed done with his food.  "You could show me that plant you were speaking of yesterday."

Sebastian glanced at Edgar.  The pair exchanged a series of looks in a silent conversation.  Sebastian grimaced, nodded almost imperceptibly, and said through clenched teeth, “No.  I’m afraid I can’t accompany you, Miss Lily.”

"I would be happy to walk with you after breakfast," Edgar interjected.  I was surprised by his invitation.  Edgar had been friendly towards me, but he clearly wanted me out of his house.  Beyond the silly naming discussion and the occasional formal question about my health, he barely spoke to me.  He was always in his study except for meals.  Sebastian had joined me in the library quite a few times, showing me his extensive collection of books with a glee much like a proud parent, but never Edgar.  I supposed he was still grieving his wife- I hadn’t asked Mary how long it had been since her death.

And so I found myself walking through the garden in the weak morning sun with the older brother instead of the younger as I had wanted.

*****

He gripped the sill of his window, watching through the glass as she walked with his brother.  Lily, he thought, with a hint of longing.  She was so different than- no, he wouldn’t think about her.  He thought he could hear Lily’s laugh from the garden.  He could picture her face, lit with humor, blue eyes bright and her lush lips curved in a smile.  Her cheeks just slightly reddened by the wind…

_Mount.  Rut.  Spill…_

The voice of the animal, whispering in his head.   He looked away from the window, clenching his jaw and trying to silence the voice.  He would  _not_  give in to it.  He would not.

He found himself staring at his wolf.  Friend, mentor, brother, curse.  Pack (Lord, she had  _him_  calling the wolf that now) gave him a glare.  He did not like being called a curse.  They had no secrets from each other- how could they, when they nearly shared a mind?  Pack was patient with him, although he didn’t understand Sebastian’s reluctance to find a mate.  Sebastian knew that it would calm the raging beast inside him to take a woman, but he would not let himself do it.  If it meant living in isolation for the rest of his days, with nothing but books and his brother for company, then he would bear that punishment.  It was only fair, after what he had done.

"You like her.  She is not afraid of you," he murmured.  Pack’s tongue lolled out and he gave a little whine.  "It would end the same.  I cannot give in to this."  He flexed his hands into fists and flattened them again.  “I cannot destroy her like that.”  

She was delightful, her wit sharp and her humor biting.  He couldn’t help but fall for her; wanting to be close to her, to speak with her on all subjects, to hold her, to own her body…

_Mount.  Rut.  Spill…_

_…Lily…_

How long had it been?   Had there really been a time when the beast was calm, when it did not clamor for release?  It seemed so long ago.  He pressed his fists to his eyes.  This curse, this beastial nature of his…  He hated himself.  How many had he hurt- no, killed because of this curse?  Mother, father, wife…

Pack made a noise again, protesting his despair.  Pack did not understand.  To him,  this was the natural order of his life.  But Sebastian knew that this was unholy, this pairing of man and wolf thoughts.  He had worked hard to suppress, to ignore, to never acknowledge the perverted desires that the link caused in him.  When he gave in, as he had done a few times over the long years, he knew he was damned.  The guilt, the feelings of shame and despair were overwhelming.  He could drown in those feelings, they were so palpable.  But he could not leave Pack.  He loved the wolf in a way that he had never loved anyone.  He was a part of Sebastian’s soul.

_Mount.  Rut.  Spill…_

_…Lily…_

He whined, a canine noise almost identical to Pack’s.  Leaning against the wall, he rubbed his hand over his cock through his trousers.  Just the thought of her had him hard already.  He knew that he could soothe the beast inside for a time with his own hand.  So what if it was a sin; he was damned enough that a little self-abuse could hardly add much to his sentence.  He pulled a handkerchief from a pocket as he undid his trousers with the other hand.

He thought about her as he stroked himself with lazy motions.  Her eyes, her scent, her ample curves… Imagined how her hips would feel in his hands as he yanked her against him, filling her.  Would she cry out?  Would she moan?  He groaned himself, spreading the leaking fluid from his tip down his length, imagining it was her hand on him.  He gripped himself harder, an image popping into his mind of her raven hair wrapped around his fist as he made her kneel… Her mouth closing over him, warm and wet and eager for him.  He whimpered at his imagination, hand moving faster, the thought of her plump lips wrapped around him, sucking him deeper…  Pulling on her hair, urging her faster, hips thrusting into her hot mouth and moaning.  His breath was ragged and stuttering now.  Sliding in and out, her soft pink tongue swirling around him, holding her hair with both hands and pushing down her throat as he spilled with a deep growl…

Breath shaky, he opened his eyes slowly and sank to the floor, discarding the handkerchief he had soiled to the side.  He pulled his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and pressing his face to his knees.  Pack came over and leaned against him.  The wolf’s weight comforted him somewhat.  He ached for Lily, even now; his imaginings only increasing his desire for her.  She needed to leave before the ache became too much and he lost control.

*****

The garden was lovely, full of roses and daisies and tulips.  Edgar held my arm as we walked, helping me hop over the little puddles that dotted the path through the flowers and trees.  The garden, while pretty, was not as well-maintained as it should have been and I wondered if they had a gardener or if poor Mary had to tend the garden as well.

We made small talk as we walked.  After a bit, Edgar began telling me about a time when he had gotten stuck in one of the larger rose bushes at age four.  He had been trying to escape the crying of his new baby brother and chased a rabbit into a bush.  His clothing had gotten caught in the thorns and it had taken hours for his nurse to find him and then get him out.  I couldn’t help but laugh at the way he told the story, wry and self-deprecating

Edgar smiled gently, gesturing for me to sit on a nearby bench.  I did, after he had wiped off a few drops of water with his handkerchief for me, watching him sit beside me.  “Miss Lily… I have noticed that you and Sebastian have much in common- both of you have nearly an obsession with books, for one.  But I have to warn you to be careful around my brother.”

I blinked in confusion.  “Excuse me, milord?”  

“Sebastian is… Well, I am glad to see him out of his chambers and talking to you about his books, but he is not… someone a young lady should fancy.”  Edgar sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and his cheeks flushing slightly.  He seemed extremely uncomfortable talking to me about this.  “He is not well.”

I didn’t know what to say.  Sebastian seemed fine to me, if a little reserved and with a bit of a temper.  His mind was sharp and he was always impeccably groomed and he didn’t drool or speak in tongues.  “Not well?”

Edgar sighed again.  “Perhaps I should have said nothing.  But I have noticed how much time you spend together and I do not want you getting hurt.  I have kept Sebastian here with me instead of sending him away to an asylum- it seems the kindest thing to do for him.  They… they would kill the wolf and that would be terribly cruel for Sebastian, even if the wolf is part of the problem.”  He wasn’t looking at me any longer; instead he was gazing off into the garden as if lost in thought.  His conflicted love for his brother was clear in his tone.  ”However, I cannot just sit aside and let him do to another what he did to Geneve.”

Geneve?  What did she have to do with this?  ”Who is Geneve?” I asked, my voice innocent and hopefully not betraying that I had heard her sad story from Mary.  I was beyond curious what had happened between Geneve and Sebastian.

"He killed her," he said bluntly.  My mouth dropped open in shock.  Before I could recover, Edgar continued, not seeing my reaction.  "He didn’t deal the death blow, but he killed her all the same.  Geneve was a gentle soul and Sebastian can be quite… volatile.”  He clenched his fists briefly.  “If only she had wed me, none of this would have happened.”

I made a conscious effort to close my mouth and hide my look of surprise.  Geneve had been  _Sebastian’s_  wife?  I thought back to my conversation with Mary.  She hadn’t actually said which brother Geneve had been married too.  I had just assumed that it was Edgar, since he was the elder.

Edgar was still talking.  “After their marriage, she just… started to fade.  Her eyes were dark, sunken, haunted.  She barely spoke to me, and we had been so close, before.  She was always frightened of that wolf, but chose him anyway- despite my protests.  I’m sure he made promises to her about it.  But in the end, he couldn’t keep them.  He drove her to suicide, to step off that cliff.”

I sat in stunned silence.  Sebastian had been married.  His wife had committed suicide.  I thought I understood why he seemed so hurt now.   But I just couldn’t believe that he was insane or needed to be avoided.  Mary had said that it was Geneve who had had a weak mind.  Possibly she would have done the same thing regardless of who she wed.  Looking at Edgar, I could tell that he believed it had all been Sebastian’s fault.  What must it be like for Sebastian, living with someone who blamed him for a loved one’s death like that?  Did he blame himself too?  I was certain he did- that would explain much of his reluctance towards me.  My heart ached for him and I looked towards the house.  He must be so lonely, fearing to get close to anyone.  

“You should stay away from him, Lily.  He will only hurt you as well.  He is very good at hurting people, even if he doesn’t intend to,” Edgar finished softly, looking at me with a serious and pained expression on his face.  

Stunned by the revelations, I could only nod.


	3. Chapter 3

I knew I shouldn’t be here.  I couldn’t sleep and I had thought to walk a bit to try to calm myself enough to rest.  Lost in thought, I let my feet wander where they would.  I found myself in the east wing, the dark hall strangely disturbing although I couldn’t decide why.  It looked very similar to the halls of the western portion of the house.  Perhaps it was just because I knew I shouldn’t be here.  I was very curious what was here- my mind came up with a hundred silly and overly dramatic things- but likely there was nothing special but the brothers’ rooms and they just didn’t want a stranger poking around their private chambers.  

 

I hurried down the hall, praying that neither of the brothers would find me here.  Edgar was unlikely, since he retired more or less after supper.  Hopefully, Sebastian was still out on his nightly walk with Pack in the forest.   It was a vain hope though.  I heard the familiar whuffling of Pack ahead of me, the scraping of his claws on the wood floor, blocking my way back to my room.  And if he were here, Sebastian wouldn’t be far behind.  I peered into the dark, trying to see him before he could startle me.  But all I saw was the yellow eyes of the wolf staring back at me.  I breathed a little sigh and turned a little to glance behind me.  When I turned back, Sebastian was there, standing uncomfortably close to me.

"Why are you outside my door?" he snarled, not at all like the man at breakfast this morning.  He had skipped dinner and I had missed him.  I couldn’t help but wonder if he had missed me.

"I’m sorry, milord, I got lost," I replied, hoping my voice didn’t start to shake.  There was something about him when he was angry and it stirred a dark desire in me.  He took a few steps towards me, forcing me back until my spine pressed against the wallpaper.

He inhaled deeply.  ”You smell like roses.  I trust you had a pleasant walk in the garden with my brother earlier."  His hands rested on the wall behind me on either side, trapping me as he leaned forward.  

"Only because  _you_  wouldn’t go with me.”  It slipped out before I could stop it.  My hand flew to my mouth, stopping anything else from spilling out, my face flushing in embarrassment for being so forward.

There was a low rumble in his chest.   His face was only an inch away from mine now, staring into my eyes as if he could see my soul.  My heart hammered against my ribs.  He lowered his head just slightly, grazing his lips over the fingers across my mouth.  Before I could react, he took a fingertip between his teeth, worrying it gently like a dog with a bone.  The sharp edges of his teeth carefully pressing into my skin, the tip of his tongue teasing, caressing, it was enough to drive me mad and my breath stuttered.  There was a fluttering sensation in my stomach, coiling into a different feeling between my legs.  I closed my eyes as his teeth and tongue coaxed my hand away from my mouth, biting back a moan.  His breath was hot and moist on my hand.  He pulled a finger into his mouth, sucking fiercely as his tongue rubbed sensitive skin.  Letting the digit slip from his mouth, he rumbled again and pressed me harder against the wall.  His lips descended on mine, claiming them in a desperate kiss.  I could feel his arousal pressing into my stomach through our clothes.  There was a familiar aching, empty feeling between my legs and my hips thrust against his in primal instinct.  His mouth was warm and wet, his tongue dominating my own, demanding submission that I was becoming more than willing to give to him.  I moved my hand up his chest, over the silk waistcoat and cravat, to cup his cheek, intending to pull him even closer.

He broke away from the kiss with a sudden snarl, his chest heaving as he stepped back from me.  He fisted his hands at his sides, glaring at the wall above my head as if it had caused this.  I opened my mouth to say something- what, I wasn’t sure, but it likely would have included the words ‘don’t stop.’  I was overly warm and flustered from his attention and wantedmore.

Sebastian snarled at me, his face contorting with emotion I couldn’t read, cutting off my budding protest.  “Don’t come here again.”  And with that, he spun on his heel and stalked to his room, leaving me aroused and confused by his behavior.

*****

He paced his room, terribly ashamed of himself.  He hadn’t lost control like that in years.  But the scent of her, the feel of her after his imaginings earlier…  He shuddered with the memory.  She did things to him, made him want to take her up against the wall or push her to the floor and ride her hard.  Pack sprawled on the hearthstones, watching him but being mercifully silent about the incident.

He buried his face in his hands.  What had made him use his mouth to pull her hand away?  Like an animal.  Why could he have not used his hand?  He was  _not_  a beast, he was a man- why could he not act like one around her?  Oh, but the way her breath caught when he bit her, her struggle not to moan, the way she had touched his cheek… she was enthralling, not afraid of him at all.  Addicting.  He needed more.  And couldn’t have it.  

He knew this path, he knew what lay at the end of it.  He was slipping, letting her into his heart when he should be strong and push her away.  He would have to push harder, keep her away from him.  No more talking with her of birds or flowers or science.  Pack lifted his head and glared at him, angry that Sebastian was throwing away a good mate.  Sebastian shook his head.  “No,” he murmured.  “I cannot… I cannot let her want me, she does not know what I am.”  He groaned deeply, clenching his fists against his eyes.  “No.  She deserves a man who can bring her happiness.  I would only destroy her.”

*****

I had barely seen Sebastian in days.  After our kiss in the hall, he had made himself scarce.  He never came to breakfast any longer and rarely to dinner.  Meals were a boring affair now, with just Edgar and me trying to make conversation.  When we did cross paths, Sebastian sullen and gruff towards me, even insulting.  Lonely and upset at his sudden change in mood, I spent most of my time absently flipping through books in the library.  At night, I sat by my window and watched until he and Pack returned from walking in the forest, which they did every night rain or no, just so that I could see him.  I couldn’t concentrate during the day; my thoughts were on Sebastian and what I might have done to anger him.  He had been so forceful and passionate in the hall, as if he hungered for me- as if he felt the same way that I did towards him.  That kiss had left me aching for more, only cementing my feelings for him.  But now he wouldn’t even look at me.

Was he trying to push me away?  Or was he really as unstable as Edgar said and this was what he did- being friendly one day and mean the next?  I went in circles in my head, driving myself crazy with uncertainty.  

I pulled another book from the shelf, not even looking at the title, and thumbed through it lazily.  Sebastian had seemed so charming… which was the real man?  The charming bookish one or the grumpy volatile one?  I couldn’t shake my feelings for him, the way that my heart leapt when I saw him or the way my stomach fluttered as I remembered that kiss.  Something fell out of the book and I suddenly came back to myself, terrified that I had ripped a page in my distraction.

I knelt down and picked up the folded piece of paper.  It wasn’t a page from the book and I sighed in relief.  I stood back up, unfolding the paper.  It was a letter, addressed to a Mrs. Dorothy Haddock, but never sent.  Deciding that giving in to my curiosity was better than moping about Sebastian, I began to read.

_My dearest Dot,_

_I hope that all is well with you and yours.  Has Rebecca begun to walk?  I hope that the hot weather has not inconvenienced you much.   I imagine that your boys have spent the days swimming in your pond instead of concentrating on their studies._

_Edgar has made excellent progress in his arithmetic- Hugh is no longer worried about his ability to maintain the accounts in the future.  Both of them have been tending to a new foal in our stables.  They cannot wait until this one is grown and can be ridden hunting.  They constantly argue (in good spirits) about who will ride him._

_Sebastian is still a worrying little boy.  He is so quiet and only Edgar can bring a smile to his face.  Last week he disappeared into the forest, frightening me quite badly since he had never gone there without his brother.  He came home near dark with a wolf pup.  Hugh demanded that it be killed, but Sebastian clung to it and actually shouted back at his father.  The row went on for hours, with little Sebastian in tears but not backing down.  It was not until Edgar stepped in on Sebastian’s behalf that Hugh relented.  He is not happy about a wild beast living in the house and fears it will worry his prized hounds, but Sebastian will not be parted from it.  This incident has driven a wedge in their already distant relationship.  Hugh has begun calling it a dog at every opportunity, which seems to infuriate Sebastian.  Perhaps in response to this, Sebastian refuses to give a name to the beast, saying it is not a pet._

_Sebastian told me the other day, in a hushed scared whisper, that he hears the wolf speaking in his head- that they can share thoughts between them.  This, combined with his acute sense of hearing and scent, worries me greatly.  Can my son be insane?  Or is it something stranger?  I found a very old servant, now retired, who told me of serving Hugh’s grandfather when she was a girl.  That lord also had a wolf that followed him around.  Perhaps what is happening with Sebastian is some sort of family tradition?  Is it possible that such a thing as a family curse could exist outside stories?  I will have to look into this more, since every day my little son is growing more and more distant and strange.  It breaks my heart to see it and it all began with that pup._

_Enough about that.  The roses are growing like weeds in this weather…_

I skimmed the rest of the letter, but found nothing interesting in the remaining portion.  It was signed Henrietta Wray; I assumed that was Sebastian’s mother.  I refolded the letter with shaking hands and replaced it carefully in the book, which I put back on the shelf.  Then I sat down in the nearest chair, staring blankly at the wall across from me.  

_He hears the wolf speaking in his head- that they can share thoughts between them._

_His acute sense of hearing and scent._

_He says you can call him Pack._

_Is it possible that such a thing as a family curse could exist?_

_She was always frightened of that wolf, but chose him anyway._

It made much more sense now.  His reluctance to speak about himself, the pain in his eyes, and the way he watched me interact with Pack.  I wasn’t afraid of the wolf, not after the first few days.  Perhaps I should be, but he was such a sweet animal and I loved animals of all sorts.  A memory drifted across my mind- had I had a dog?  A little brown shaggy thing?  What had happened to it?  I shook my head.  That wasn’t important right now.  If Sebastian did have a connection to Pack beyond a normal master-hound one… I thought about the way he had growled and snarled at me in the hall.  I felt flushed and warm just remembering how my body had responded to him.  He had seemed more beastial than gentlemanly and I had loved it.  

If he thought that he was responsible for Geneve’s death, and if he thought that Pack had something to do with her mental instability… He must be terrified of getting close to someone else, in case that happened again.  Was that why he was avoiding me after that kiss?  Was he scared that I would reject him once I knew?  Or that he would hurt me?  Or was he too concerned with keeping this a secret that he was wound tight as a spring?

“Oh, my poor Sebastian!” I whispered into the empty room.


	4. Chapter 4

I thought about what I had read all that day and night.  I knew that it didn’t change my feelings towards him.  My heart still leapt when I saw him walk outside.  He was gentle and clever and charming; for that matter, so was Pack- for a semi-tame wolf.  I was sure that if he only knew that I accepted him and his connection with Pack, he would be able to relax around me.  

 

I found Sebastian in his study.  I had never seen it before, as it was in the east wing and I had had to ask Mary about it, and I was struck by two things as I entered.  First was the sheer number of books.  There were shelves full, piles on the desk, careful stacks in the corners.  Even the manor’s library didn’t have so many books.  The second was the paintings.  This was where the paintings from the empty frames in the halls were.  Pinned to the wall haphazardly, edges frayed and curling, were numerous paintings of a small, blonde woman who could only be Geneve.  Had Sebastian cut them out of the frames to keep them here?  Did he spend his time obsessing over what had happened?  I was nearly certain that he did.

His back was to the door, sitting at the desk bent over a book in his shirt sleeves and waistcoat, cravat hanging undone around his collar.  Pack was at his feet, licking his paws.  I didn’t bother to announce myself.  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but I had to do something to show him my feelings after that kiss.  I wanted him- more than that, I loved him.  I knew that now.  I just had to figure out how to tell him.

I walked up to the back of his chair, a spindle made from a dark wood.  He was ignoring me, obviously, or he would have turned by now.  Was he hoping I’d go away?  I thought he might return my feelings, but he was so reserved lately that it was hard to tell.  “Sebastian,” I breathed, nervous.  Before I could think about what I was doing, I reached my hands up and ran my fingers through his hair, from his forehead to his shoulders.  He stiffened, but didn’t move.  I did it again, enjoying the feel of the soft, dark waves in my hands.  On my next pass, I rubbed my fingertips into his scalp, massaging gently.  His breath was unsteady, his hands pressed flat to the desk.

My hands slid down, rubbing and pressing on his neck.  His shoulders were trembling from the force he was using to keep his hands in place.  I leaned forward, grazing the top of his ear with my teeth.  “Sebastian…” I whispered longingly.  His jaw clenched and he took a deep, shaky breath.  “Please, I can’t stop thinking about the other day,  the way you touched me… I need more, I need you.”  I ran my tongue along his ear, a thrill running through me at the sound of his ragged breathing.  He at least wanted my body, if he didn’t return my love.

Gathering my courage, I slid my hand over his shoulder and under the collar of his shirt, pressing my palm flat against his heart.  It was beating fast, his bare skin warm and soft.  A small sound of longing slipped from me and I clung to him for a moment, wondering what it would be like to fall asleep to the sound of his heart, with my head cradled just there.

My own breath was shaky now, my whole body aching for that imagined closeness.  ”I know- I know you’re scared.  But I’m not her.  It will be different, darling…”  Tears stung my eyes, wanting to love him in every way.

It was the endearment that pushed him over the edge.  He slammed his hands down on the desk with a cry, surging to his feet and throwing my arms away from him.  He turned to glower at me, then suddenly his hand was covering my mouth, the other on the back of my neck.  His eyes were dark, dangerous, full of turmoil as he leaned close to me, snarling in my face.

“You think you understand.  You think you know what it would be like.  You  _don’t_.”  His voice was barely a whisper, each word said with such intensity that I trembled.  “You would scream.  You would beg me to stop.  And I- I can’t, once I’ve begun.  You would be my prey.”  His tongue darted out to lick his lips, clearly aroused by the idea.  It certainly aroused me.  “I would devour you.”

I raised my hand to his, gently coaxing it away from my mouth and placing in on my hip, my eyes locked on his.  Then, before he could protest, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.  I tried to convey my feelings in that kiss, the love and compassion and desire for him.  I pressed my body to his, a silent invitation to touch me.  Instead, he reached up and grabbed my arms, roughly pulling them down to my sides and stepping back from me.

"You still  _don’t understand_ , you  _idiotic_  girl,” he snarled.  His voice was angry but his face was twisted with despair.  He squeezed his fingers, tightening his grip on my arms painfully.  ”This isn’t a game.  I would hurt you.  I am a monster, unholy, a demon.”  His voice cracked and tears shone in his eyes.  ”I am cursed with the mind of a wolf, a wild beast inside me that can barely be controlled.”

"Sebastian, I know…"  I wasn’t sure what to say, but I could not stand to hear the self-loathing in his voice.  He did not deserve it, even from himself.  “You are  _not_  a monster.  You and Pack are gentle and-”

He spun me around, pointing at one of the paintings, interrupting me.

"That was Geneve.  My  _wife_.  I loved her since we were children,” he said in a choked, angry tone.  ”As we got older, Edgar and I competed for her attention- feats of boyish bravery and foolishness.  I was so shocked when she choose me- I thought she was playing a joke on me.  My brother was furious.  Oh, Lord above, she was perfect, an angel,  _my_  angel… When we wed, her hair shone like the sun, her skin was the finest porcelain- she was delicate and fragile, every bit of her.  I was so happy, so honored to be her husband.  The thought of having her forever was intoxicating.  I loved her so much.”  He spoke now in tones of reverence, as if he were in church.

"I drove her mad.  I…"  His fists clenched and his voice grew quieter.  "With my base carnality, the beast inside me, I drove her to insanity.  I tried to stop myself, but I wanted her so badly… She threw herself off a cliff into the sea," he whispered.  "Because of me.  I am the beast who destroyed an angel."

I could hear the longing and pain in his voice.  I ached for his heartbreak, but beneath that was jealousy, so strong that it shocked me.  I wanted this man for my own, demons and all, but how could I compete with this memory of his perfect, golden-haired, delicate beauty?  I certainly wasn’t that, with dark hair and wide hips and a sarcastic tongue that often got away from me.  My thoughts were uncharitable towards a woman no longer alive, but I wanted to snap that maybe if she hadn’t been so  _pretty_  and _delicate_  then she could have handled such man as him.  

“I’m not her, Sebastian.”  I turned back to look at him, but as I did, he moved away.  I spoke to his back, struggling to put words to my feelings.  “I want to be with you. I… I’ve missed you terribly these last few days and I cannot stop thinking about the way you felt against me in the hall.  I want to feel that again, Sebastian, please.  I am not delicate or fragile- I want all of you, whatever that may be, I want it-”

He suddenly strode out of the room without looking at me, fists clenched, but I thought I saw tears on his cheeks.  I stared after him, slightly shocked at my own bold words and his reaction to them.  I didn’t realize Pack was still in the room until he pushed his nose into my hand.  I sank to my knees beside him, wrapping my arms around him.  

"Help me," I mumbled into his warm black fur.  "Please, help me show him how much I can love him.  I know… I know he’s so afraid, so worried about hurting another, of the same thing happening again.  But it  _won’t_.”  My words were shaky with emotion and Pack made a little whuffing noise that I took for assent.  I hugged him tightly, thanking him.

*****

That night, I had a terrible nightmare.  I couldn’t remember exactly what it had been about, but the feeling of something hovering in the shadows, waiting to destroy me, wouldn’t leave.  I glanced around at the shadows in my room and shivered.  No, I couldn’t stay here alone.  The far-off rumble of thunder made me grab the extra blanket from the bed and leave before I could really think about what I was doing.  I padded my way to Sebastian’s room, hoping it was late enough that he was back from his evening walk.  The journey down the dark halls without a candle did nothing for my fears.

I knocked softly at his door, then slipped inside before I could change my mind.  “S-sebastian?” I whispered.  I knew he could hear me no matter how quiet I tried to be.

“What are you doing here, stupid girl?” he growled from deeper in the room.  He didn’t sound happy to see me, but I hadn’t really expected him to, after earlier.  I followed the sound of his voice to find him sitting up in his bed, bare-chested, the firelight shining on his pale skin.  He lit a candle as I approached, placing it on the table beside his bed.

 _Oh my Lord God, he sleeps naked,_  I thought longingly, heat coiling in my core at the thought.  “I’m terribly frightened, Sebastian.”  A closer clap of thunder made me jump and press my hands to my ears briefly with my eyes squeezed shut, the blanket dropping from my shoulders and leaving me in just my shift.

There was silence until I lowered my hands and opened my eyes.  “You are frightened of thunderstorms, so you came  _here_?  To me?  I should scare you much more than a storm.”  But there was no anger in his voice this time.  He sounded almost touched, that I would seek him for comfort.  ”You know you can’t be here.”

A flash of lightning sent me diving for his chest with a squeak, huddling close to him and whimpering.  I  _hated_  thunderstorms.  I heard his sharp intake of breath at my action, then a slower one as he inhaled the scent of my hair.  I clutched at him, burying my face in his neck, wishing the storm would pass faster.

With a sigh of resignation, Sebastian pulled me up onto the bed with him.  He settled me beside him but above the quilt, one arm wrapped around me.  I pressed tighter to him, frightened of the storm but oh so happy to be here with him.  He smelled like the forest, earthy and fresh, but with a hint of something animal about him.  I could tell that he was tense, nervous at having me so close, but I calmed, even as the storm’s full strength hit the manor, listening to his breathing.  

"So, you’re afraid of thunder," he said finally.

A memory suddenly came to me, clear as day.   ”My nurse used to tell me that thunder was God’s stomping as he searched for people to smite and that the lightning was Him killing them.  I was convinced that He would come looking for me.”

With a little laugh, he asked, “And why would God come to smite a girl like you?”

"I don’t know… I was little, I probably had stolen a cookie from the kitchen and thought that was a smite-able offence.  The image just stuck with me; she was a pretty scary woman, my nurse."

We lapsed back into silence, my head resting on his shoulder.  After a long time, Sebastian’s head fell back against the headboard as he gave a long sigh and he whispered, “Why?  Why do you keep tormenting me?”

"Is that all I am to you, milord- a torment?" I asked back quietly, trying to hide the hurt I felt and sitting up away from him.  He jumped a little, clearly thinking that I had fallen asleep and that he was talking to himself.

"Yes.  No.”  He sounded like the question was tearing him apart, growling low in the back of his throat.  “I want nothing more than to be with you, all the time.  But I cannot… And now you come into my chambers in the middle of the night, clad only in your undergarments, and crawl into my bed with me and expect to leave still a maiden.  Yes, that is quite the torment to visit on me."

"I’m not a maiden," I murmured.  It was a hazy memory, full of holes, but I knew it was true.

"What?"

"I said, I’m no maiden.  I don’t remember who, or when, but I know…"  I trailed off, suddenly seized with the fear that Sebastian would be upset by this information.  Men preferred their women to be virginal, I knew.  I hoped that he would see this as proof that I was different than his delicate, precious Geneve.  That my "experience" could be an advantage.

Unable to stop myself, I leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his neck.  His breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away.  I kissed him again, tasting his skin, as my hand played with the ends of his hair.  Pressing closer to him, my mouth moved slowly upwards towards his ear.  I nibbled gently at the delicate flesh, before I whispered, “I am not a blushing virgin.  I know what I am asking for.  I want to feel you against me, in me.”

He shivered.  ”Lily,” he said in a choked voice.  ”Oh… oh.”  My lips pressed to the soft spot below his ear.  I slid my hand down his body- I knew it was a risky move- rubbing against his cock through the quilt.  His hips bucked up into my hand and a small cry escaped him.  ”I can’t… I will drive you mad.”  

"I don’t remember my name.  I’m already mad, darling."  I reached up and ran my fingers down his cheek lightly, his skin hot and flushed now.  "Please, Sebastian… just for tonight.  Let me feel what it would be like to have you, just for a while," I pleaded.  I grabbed the hem of my shift and began to slowly pull it up my legs

He whined suddenly, pushing my hands away and ripping my shift the rest of the way over my head.  “Lord Almighty, Lily… You don’t know what you do to me…”  He rolled on top of me, kicking off the quilt and burying his face in my hair.  “ _Please_ , give me relief.”  

I arched up against his body, an open invitation, wrapping my fingers in his hair.  His head darted down, claiming my mouth in a rough kiss.  His tongue demanded entrance and I opened willingly for him, pulling him closer with my hands in his hair.  I bit his lower lip gently, trying to coax out that animalistic side of him.  I could feel his cock against my thigh, hard and hot.  I trailed my hands down his back, clutching the firm curve of his buttocks, urging him up and into me, but he didn’t move.

“Lily,” he moaned, his mouth on my neck.  “We can’t…”  His voice trailed off even as he pressed himself harder against me.

"I  _don’t want to stop_ ," I whispered fiercely.

Sebastian shuddered abruptly, conflicted.  ”You will, and I won’t be able to.  I’ll hurt you.”  He growled low in his throat, almost in despair, his breath ragged in my ear.  ”I want to rip you, tear you, make you scream.  I can’t be gentle, I can’t… control it.”  He was panting now with the effort of holding himself back and I knew that my next action would change things forever.  For better or worse.

His words were only increasing my arousal, though, making me yearn for the feel of him inside me.  ”I’m not afraid of you.  I w _ant_  you- I  _need_  you to take me, Sebastian.  Make me yours.”

With a desperate whine, his control completely shattered at my urging.  He buried his face in my neck, biting hard at my shoulder.  I gasped, moving beneath him as he licked the mark, his tongue soft against my skin after the sharp pain.  He bit me again and again, whimpering desperately into my neck as his teeth dug in- as if he had needed this for years and been denied.  I moved my hands up to tangle in his dark curls, but he seized my wrists and pinned them to the bed beside me.  He growled a warning as I wriggled, testing his grip.

"Still," he gasped, as if he couldn’t quite remember how to speak.  "Be… still."  He returned to licking, tasting my skin with long swipes of his hot tongue, punctuated by the occasional bite.  I whimpered and mewled at his attention, fighting to keep myself from pressing my body to his.  I wanted this so badly- the raw passion, the animal lust, the domination.

His hips rutted against my abdomen, rubbing his erection on the soft skin there, seemingly unable to stop.  It was sweet torture for me, wanting to feel that motion inside me but unable to move to urge him there.  His eager mouth moved down my chest, hovering over a breast for a moment.  He seized the nipple, sucking fiercely, hungrily.  I couldn’t keep still any longer, arching up against him with a cry, straining in his grip, needing to hold him to me so he couldn’t move away.

"More," I cried softly. "Sebastian!"

He did, moving to the other nipple and eliciting a similar cry from me.  I writhed, throwing my head back and pressing my hips to his.  The sight of my exposed neck was too much for him and he moved up to nip and lick me there again.

One hand released my wrist and traveled down my body, slipping between my legs.  His fingers dipped into my folds.  When he felt the dripping wetness there, he lifted his head to look into my eyes.  His shock seemed to have calmed the animal for a moment and I would have laughed if I hadn’t ached for him so much.  I felt like I would combust if he waited much longer.

"You… you-"

"I need you," I whispered, letting the ache into my voice, into my eyes.

That was all he needed.  The hand between my legs guided his cock to my entrance.  He lost himself again, pushing in with a low howl.  Releasing my other wrist, he wrapped both hands around my shoulders, pulling me down onto him as he thrust in farther.  I moaned happily, my head lolling against the pillow, lost momentarily in the sensation of being filled.  When he began to move, I wrapped my legs around him, urging him on.  My hands found his strong back, feeling the muscles bunch and move beneath the skin.

He pulled out of me suddenly, my legs dropping to the bed as he reared up.  ”Over,” he snarled, pushing me to roll over onto my stomach.  He grabbed my hips, pulling them up to his level and sheathed himself in one long thrust.  My spine curved in reaction, shoving my backside towards him, offering myself to him as a moan escaped my throat.  His hands ran down my sides, possessively touching me before returning to my hips and grasping them hard.  He thrust wildly, keening and whining at the sensation.  I scrabbled at the sheets to keep from being pushed across the bed, every thrust hitting something deep within me making me gasp and whimper myself.  I could feel each hit building towards something amazing, a tension mounting in my body in response to him.  He pounded into me harder, gasping for breath.  One hand fisted in my hair, pulling to arch my back further.  I bucked back against him, crying out wordless encouragement.  He woke something inside me- something that wanted to be savaged, bitten, ridden.   _This is what had been missing before-_ I felt like I could almost grasp a memory, almost find the answer, but a vicious thrust made me forget everything but the feel of him, the sound of his hips slapping against me, the noises torn from his throat as he spilled inside me, howling.

*****

He collapsed to the side, shuddering in the aftermath of his climax.  He felt satisfied, complete, in a way he hadn’t in too many years.  As the animal faded into the back of his mind, finally sated, he felt a vague sense of guilt.  It took him a moment to realize that he hadn’t finished her off.  He had been too consumed in his own animalistic lust and had left her wanting.  He raised up on his knees to look at her.  She had rolled onto her back, her eyes closed and a small smile on her face.  She didn’t seem to mind that she hadn’t had her release, but he did.

He moved between her legs again, lowering his head to her sex.  At the first taste of her, so distinct and sensual against his tongue,  the beast took control again, sending him into a frenzy of lust.  Her gasp and her hands flying to his hair only increased his fervor.  He licked her in firm, long strokes, burying his face in her, unable to get enough.  She writhed against him, hips rising to meet his mouth.  His tongue moved faster, drunk on the taste of her.  He sucked hungrily on her clit, shoving two fingers inside her, slippery with her wetness and his seed and so hot around him.  He was beyond control again, growling against her folds, mouth moving frantically to sate the craving in him.  His fingers thrust into her, curling and uncurling to touch that spot inside her that made her gasp.  Her walls twitched around him, and she pulled his hair, pressing him against her.  He sucked on her fiercely until she shuddered, screaming his name and her thighs clamping down on his ears.  He lapped at her, unable to tear himself away until she mewled and tugged gently on his hair.  Only then could he reassert his control, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her.  

She was beautiful.  Her eyes were shut and her breath was just starting to slow, her face relaxed and soft, her dark hair spread across the pillow.  His eyes traveled down to her bare shoulders and a wave of shame crashed over him, seeing the bruises and marks on her skin.  Shame at how he had lost control, how he had savaged her… and shame at how the sight of those marks aroused him again.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands which smelled of her, groaning quietly at the overwhelming guilt he felt.  How could he have done this?  It was happening all over again.  He would drive her insane with his lusts and she would pay the final price for them.  He should have listened to Edgar and never let her stay at Rookcliffe.  He made another noise, this time in despair.

She sat up at his noise and scooted to his side, laying her hand on his arm.  “What’s the matter?  Was… was that not… good?” she whispered, her voice tiny and hurt.

He couldn’t look at her.  To look at her would be his downfall, to see the marks of his failure and triumph- because he had loved ravaging her and he wanted to do it again and again and again, but knew that he must never allow himself to.  “I hurt you,” he whispered in a choked voice.  “I bit you and I  _enjoyed_ it.  I am a monster, I can’t control the beast in my soul.  You’re not safe here with me.”

She wrapped her arms around him, her breasts pressing softly against him.  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.  So did I.  I’ve never felt so  _amazing_ , dearest.  Thank you for this.”

He looked at her then, in utter shock.  She was… thanking him?  She smiled sweetly-  _oh so sweetly_ \- and pulled him back down to the bed with her, resting his head on her breasts and stroking his hair with soft fingers.  The simple acceptance in the gesture broke his heart.  He began to sob, unable to stop himself, expressing years of shame and self-hatred and denial in his tears.  He shook with the force of his emotions.

“Shh… hush, my darling, shh.  I know.  I know how afraid you are,” she murmured above him, her voice soothing and full of love he knew he didn’t deserve, making him sob all the harder.  “You’re not a monster.  Let go, my darling, I’m here for you.”

How could she not understand?  How could she not  _know_ , after what he had just done?  How could she hold him so close to her vulnerable flesh and _comfort_  him?  He whimpered, clutching her waist, his eyes squeezed shut against tears, unable to let her go and cursing himself for not being strong enough to.  He hadn’t cried like this since his mother died when he was a boy.  He had hurt them all, his family, drove them to their deaths.  They had all feared him, eventually.  Even Edgar, who had always stood by him, hated him now.  

And yet… here was this girl, so unafraid and willing to trust him completely.  To let him be the beast and still hold him afterwards, with the mark of his teeth still on her.  Was this forgiveness?  Grace?  She had thanked him, told him she enjoyed it, even desired him again.  He didn’t understand- couldn’t comprehend how it was possible.

And so he sobbed.

"My love," she whispered.  "All is well, darling.  All is well."  She smoothed the hair back from his face, her fingers gentle against his skin.  "I’m here."


	5. Chapter 5

Sebastian sent me back to my room before Edgar or Mary could see me coming from his chambers.  I had protested, having a hard time not touching him after the intimacy of the predawn hours.  He had a point, though, that I had only my shift, not even my dress with me.  So I had crept back to my room to doze for another few hours before breakfast.

 

Upon waking, I could not stop smiling.  I sat in front of the vanity mirror to brush my hair and noticed the marks and bruises on my shoulders.  I dreamily ran my fingers over what was clearly a bite mark, lost in the memory of his mouth on my skin.  Hot and wet, with the sweet pain of his teeth and the firm strokes of his tongue.  I shivered, remembering the passion and  _need_  he had had for me, his hips slamming into me with abandon.  Reluctantly, I finished dressing in the new red dress, the high neckline hiding all evidence of last night.

I arrived before Sebastian and Edgar for once, although Edgar was not far behind me.  I tried hard to keep the smile from my face; I didn’t want to give myself away.  I kept glancing towards the door, waiting for Sebastian, eager to see him after last night.  My heart sank when he didn’t appear, even by the time I was finished with breakfast.  I fiddled with my teacup, eyes locked on the door.  What was wrong?  The longer I sat there, the more hurt and upset I became.  Why was he avoiding me?  What I had I done?  I thought that we had started something last night, especially when he was so vulnerable, letting me hold him as he cried.  Had he changed his mind?  Finally, I decided to go find him.

On my way up the stairs, I saw Mary carrying down a tray of empty dishes.  She smiled at me and said, “Master Sebastian isn’t feeling well, he told me to tell you he was sorry to miss talking to you about birds.  Or something like that, I can’t quite remember.”

I thanked her and once she was out of sight, I changed direction towards Sebastian’s room.  Not feeling well- I’d believe it when I saw it.

He was sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, his legs splayed out to touch the armrests and his head cradled in one hand.  He had on a long, dark blue dressing gown but nothing else, it appeared.  I paused to give Pack a scratch before moving closer to Sebastian.  He kept his eyes covered, not looking at me.  I had to remind myself that I was upset at him to keep from straddling his lap and kissing him- he looked so enticing like that.  Blue suited him.  And I desperately wanted to touch him again.

"Sebastian?" I asked, standing in front of his chair, unsure of what to say.  "I missed you at breakfast.  Are you… Do you regret what happened last night?"  My voice shook a little, betraying how hurt I really was.  I wanted to slap him hard and comfort him at the same time and I wasn’t sure which one would win out.

"No, I don’t regret…" he sighed, rubbing his hand across his face but carefully not turning in my direction.  "Lily, it’s complicated.  You should leave."

"Why won’t you look at me?”  I was getting more upset by the moment.  He had cried in my arms last night and now he was ignoring me?  What had I done wrong?

"I can barely control myself around you!  God above, your scent is enough to inflame my lust to a maddening level," he growled, suddenly seeming angry- or just wound tight and about to snap.  "If I look at you, I will do something unspeakable to you.  If I had come to breakfast… I would have taken you there on the dining table, decency be damned.  I need to… oh God, I cannot say it."

"Except for giving poor Edgar an apoplexy, I would have enjoyed that greatly," I giggled, unable to stop myself.  The thought of him throwing me across the table in uncontrollable lust…  I shivered and decided immediately how I wanted to handle this situation.  He was concerned that he lusted after me more than I did him?  I’d have to show him differently.

I sank to my knees between his spread legs and ran my hands up under the hem of the robe.  He gasped and his eyes flew to me kneeling before him.  I caressed the soft skin of his thighs, then smiled as I moved the fabric away to expose his cock, already hard and eager for me.

His face twisted in shock and he tried to push me away.  “What are you doing!” he yelped.

I grabbed his hands and pressed them back into the chair, my eyes locking with his briefly. I lowered my head and flicked my tongue around the tip of his cock.  

“Hush, love,” I murmured.  Opening my mouth wide, I swallowed as much of him as I could.  His startled gasp and the way his hips thrust up involuntarily was thrilling.  I let go of his hands to grasp the base of his cock.  This was familiar.  I had done this before with someone else, but I hadn’t enjoyed it.  Now, though, I wanted to devour him.  I wanted to taste him.  I wanted to feel him, hard and smooth, in my mouth.  I pulled off him to lick him in long, slow strokes.  He was shaking, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.  I looked up, seeing his eyes wide and dilated and glued on me, before wrapping my lips around him again and sucking gently.

I reached up to grasp one of his hands, moving it to my head.  Immediately, his fingers tangled in my hair, though he didn’t exert any pressure.  I gave an approving moan around him and his breath hitched.  I worried that he would stop breathing entirely when I slid my tongue firmly over the head of his cock and stroked him with my hand at the same time.  I squirmed a little, rubbing my legs together as my arousal increased.  I soon lost myself in the act of pleasuring him, my mouth traveling over him of its own accord, desperate to find all his secret spots, to taste every inch of him, to keep hearing those helpless noises coming from him and feel the shaking of his hand on my head.  I whimpered happily, running my fingers along the soft skin of his inner thigh as I swirled my tongue around him.

When I gently scratched my nails down his legs, he growled fiercely.  Suddenly I found myself being pushed back on to the floor.  Sebastian was on top of me in an instant, his face buried in my hair and panting in my ear, rucking up my skirts in a frenzy.  I wiggled under him to help him gather the fabric around my hips and spread my legs for him.  I was just as desperate as he was.  He keened as he slid into me and I pressed up to meet him.  He grabbed my shoulders, his thumbs resting on my collarbones, pulling his head back to look at me.  A small moan escaped me at the emotion in his darkened eyes- determination, love, and pure animal lust- ramping up my own desire to have him.

I tangled my fingers in his dark hair, urging him down for a kiss.  It was passionate, rough, his teeth nipping at my lower lip as I tugged on his locks.  He ground his hips against mine, growling low in his throat.  The tendons stood out on his forearms, gripping my shoulders tightly and plunging into me faster.  My back arched, my legs wrapping around him, trying in vain to contain the sensation as my orgasm built at dizzying speed.  His teeth were bared, his jaw clenched hard, and his eyes squeezed shut.  My breathing was ragged, my hips rising to meet his on every thrust.   My nails dug into his shoulders, clutching him closer as my muscles seized and my breath stopped completely.  I floated for an infinite moment, racked with pleasure, until I gasped in a long breath and relaxed back to the floor beneath him, eyes unfocused and limbs heavy.  He moaned my name with two more erratic thrusts and collapsed beside me, panting, his arm heavy on my stomach.  I grinned with pure joy, snuggling closer into his body.

After a few minutes, our breathing had slowed and our hearts had stopped pounding.  Sebastian raised himself up on an elbow and looked down at me, opening his mouth to say something.

"Don’t say it.  Whatever it is.  Don’t apologize or worry or think.  Just don’t, love," I said, pretending to glare at him, cupping his cheek in my palm.  "You’ve barely left me and I already want you again.  If that is how you drive a woman to madness, then I will go willingly."

He smiled then, a brilliant genuine smile, his eyes sparkling.  ”Aren’t you just a little upset that I couldn’t even take you to the bed?  It’s right over there- I could have made the effort.”

Laughter bubbled up from inside me.  I wanted to see him smile like that all the time.  ”I rather like the floor.  This is a very soft rug.”

He nuzzled his face into my hair, chuckling.  My heart was bursting with the sound.  He was happy.  I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him as tightly as I could, still prone on the floor.  I wanted to keep him here like this forever- laughing, relaxed from his constant control, with his strong hands cradling me.

I caught sight of Pack hovering behind Sebastian.   It was clear he wanted to be with Sebastian in his joy.  If Sebastian had wolfish tendencies, then it was clear that Pack had some measure of human intelligence to balance out the partnership.  I held my hand out to him, peering out from under Sebastian.  The wolf padded over silently and licked the back of Sebastian’s neck.  He yelped and jerked back, completely surprised with his eyes wide, and I dissolved into helpless giggles.

Sebastian turned and glared at the wolf, rising to his feet.  ”That was uncalled for,” he muttered.  Pack’s tongue hung from the side of his mouth in a doggy grin, making me laugh even harder and sit up to pet his side.  

I glanced up to see Sebastian staring at me, a serious expression on his face.  ”What is it?” I asked.

"He’s a wolf."

"Yes," I said slowly, confused.  "I know that.  What-"

"He could bite you or kill you at any moment."  Sebastian pointedly ignored the insulted huff from Pack, eyes glued to me.  "He’s a wild beast."

"What?  No, he wouldn’t."  I rose to my feet to meet his gaze better, still baffled.  "Why are you saying this?  Are you actually worried that Pack will nibble my arm for a snack?  Or is this about you hurting me again, because I’ve told you-"

"Lily, please.  I am serious.  Just because you are not hurt now doesn’t mean that I will not do something terrible in the future.  The danger to you…  He and I are wolves, wild, brutal.  I am not-"

"Why are you so certain that other men are better than you?  That they are reluctant to hurt women?" I snapped suddenly.  As soon as I said it, I felt like I had been hit with a heavy object.  I swayed on my feet as the room tilted dizzily.  I remembered.  Everything.  My name, how I got here, where I had come from and everything that happened there.

"Lily?  Are you well?"  Sebastian held me as I shivered, worry written all over his face.

How was I going to tell him who I was?  Would it ruin everything that I had worked so hard for with him?  I had finally gotten him to relax, to accept my love.  I hadn’t thought about what might happen if my memory returned.  I clung to him fiercely, unwilling to let go in fear that he would bolt from me if I did, my face buried in his chest.

"Lily?"  He gave a worried little whine that nearly broke my heart.  I realized through my own turmoil that he thought this was  _his_  fault.

I managed to pull myself together enough to look up at him.  ”I’m fine, darling.  Truly.”

He looked unconvinced and I could see him putting his walls back up.  ”No, you’re not.”  He started to step away from me, not looking at me.

With a sigh, I knew I couldn’t keep this from him.  ”When I said that just now… it brought back my memories.  It shocked me, I had trouble understanding what was going on for a moment.”  I pulled him back towards me with a bit of desperation.  ”It was nothing you did.”

"You remember why you were in the forest?" Sebastian seemed as conflicted as I was about it.

I nodded.  ”I… Maybe we should sit down?  Or do you want to talk about it later?”  I fidgeted with his robe, incredibly nervous.

He dipped his head, nuzzling my ear and kissing it gently.  ”Tell me, darling.”

There were tears in my eyes.  He had never used an endearment before and my heart swelled, but also increased my nerves.  I wondered if he would call me that after I told him…  It was one thing to be a widow, but that was not how I had lost my maidenhood.  I had no idea how he would react.

He pulled me down to sit on the edge of the bed with him.  His arm slipped behind my back, likely in a gesture of support, but it only made want to hide in his shoulder and forget my past all over again.  Pack rested his head on my knee, looking up at me with soulful eyes, as if he were saying, “Be honest with him.  I trusted you to take care of him.”

I took a deep breath, looking away from Pack and staring instead at the floor as I began.  ”My given name is Amelia Braxton.  My father is a prominent banker.  I was their only child and they wanted the best for me, but…”

*****

**One year ago**

I waited anxiously for Peter in my room.  He would be here soon and I didn’t know how I was going to talk to him about this.

We had been having these clandestine “meetings” for months now.  Sometimes he came to my room, jumping to my window from the house next door’s balcony.  Sometimes we met at the park, dipping into a copse of trees on the edge for a tryst.  It was all so dangerous and daring, risking discovery.  I had been reluctant at first, but he was so dashing and romantic that I had quickly given in.  He had glossed over my concerns, giving me beautiful compliments and swearing that we were meant to be together.

I twisted my hands together.  We were in love.  Did anything else matter?  Ever since we had met, my life had been full of adventure.  Things I had never dreamed of doing were almost commonplace now.  Nights of passion and poetry, days of secret messages and anticipation, all because a friend had dared me to approach the poet in the park.

I heard the familiar shuffling sound as Peter climbed through the window.  I turned to see his lithe form hopping down from the frame, his blonde hair catching the candlelight.  He caught me up in his arms, tilting his head for a kiss before I even had a chance to say anything.  I melted against him for a long moment before pulling away.  We were almost of a height and I met his soft brown eyes reluctantly.

"Peter, I need to talk to you-"

"Not now, sweetling," he murmured as he twirled his fingers through my hair.  "After."

"No," I said with only a slight tremble to my voice.  I rarely said no to him, but if I waited until "after" he would be too anxious to leave to listen to me.

He sighed.  ”Amelia, surely it can wait.  I haven’t seen you in days.  Let’s talk _later_.”  He tried to kiss me again, but I pulled away from him.

"Peter, my parents are going to finalize a wedding agreement with Sir Rotham in a few days," I said firmly, putting a hand on his chest to stop him from leaning in to nibble my neck.  That always made me forget what I was thinking about.  "You know he’s been… sort of courting me for a while now…"

"Yes, and as long as you’re still available for me at night, what do I care?"  Peter pushed my hand away, sliding his own down my sides and around me to cup my backside.  I hated it when he spoke like that- as if I were a prostitute.  I wished sometimes he’d show a bit more jealousy.  Maybe I was wrong to think…

"I don’t want to marry him, Peter," I barreled on in a rush.  Best to get it out now.  "I’d rather marry you, we love each other and if my parents knew I had another suitor, then they wouldn’t make me agree to Rotham…" I trailed off hopefully.  I was certain he would understand what I was asking.

Peter gave my backside a firm squeeze and then stepped back from me, his face serious.  I bit my lip, trying not to look too eager.  I knew my parents wouldn’t force me to marry Rotham if I had another suitor.  They were only worried because I was the only one of my friends still unwed and I was nearly twenty-three.

"Amelia, I am not going to marry you."

My heart plummeted so fast I was slightly nauseous.  If he wouldn’t court me officially, wouldn’t consider marriage… But we were in love.  All the poetry and romance, was that not worth marriage?   I closed my eyes for a moment, then whispered, “But why not?  You said we would be together forever.”  I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to know the answer.

"Yes, as lovers.  Sweetling, I am happy to keep fucking you wherever and whenever.  I don’t care if you’re married or not, as long as you still look so lovely.  But there are too many beautiful women around to tie myself to just one."  He stepped back to me, placing his lips by my ear. "So, darling, do you want this passion and heat and me," he purred.  "Or do you want to keep talking marriage, in which case I’m crawling right back out that window to find a girl who won’t try to cage me."

I pushed him away with shaking hands.  I felt sick.  The last months had all been a lie.  He didn’t love me.  He had said what he needed to to get me into bed- and I had gone so willingly, so easily seduced into giving myself to him.  He just wanted someone to- what was the word he had used?- “fuck.”  And it sounded like he had other girls lined up and waiting… or maybe that he already had them.

"But… the poems, the… did you not mean any of it?" I whispered, although I was certain I knew the answer.  I knew that this- whatever we had had- was over.  But I wanted to hear him say it, so I wouldn’t wonder in the future.

Peter was already back at the window, apparently having decided I wasn’t worth it any longer.  ”I meant some of it, sweetling.  The one about your thighs and cunt, that one I meant.  You are lovely in bed, better than many I’ve had.  Pity it has to end.  Want to reconsider?”

"No," I said in a trembling voice, tears already in my eyes from his casual, almost dismissive manner.  "I want you to go."

Shrugging, he turned and slipped out the window.  I didn’t even bother closing it before I collapsed on my bed, red hot tears of shame streaking down my cheeks.

The next few days were a blur of misery.  I could not stop thinking about Peter, how much I missed him, how much I hated him, how much I hated myself.  I had no one that I could talk to about him, so I told my mother that I was ill.  I moped around my room, lonely and upset, until the day Sir Rotham was to come over for tea.  Then I had no choice but to put on a pretty new dress and sweep my hair up into a ribbon and pretend that I wanted to marry him.

I supposed that there was nothing really  _wrong_  with David Rotham.  He was pleasant enough to look at, with short black hair and dark brown eyes and a neatly trimmed beard.  He was taller than Peter but lacked his lithe grace, being thicker and more solidly built than my lover.  We had been to a few social gatherings together and the events had been nice, but there was no spark between us.  At least not for me.  I was flattered that someone who had been knighted was considering me, but having had burning passion and love- at least I had  _thought_  that’s what I had had- I was unwilling to settle for less.

After a boring and lengthy tea service, during which I said very little, my parents excused themselves to let David and me talk to each other.  I didn’t want to be alone with him today.  I was still wrapped in my misery and could think of nothing interesting to say.  We sat in silence for a few long, awkward minutes before David spoke.

"Pour me some more tea, Amelia," he asked, although it sounded like a command.

I got up reluctantly to fetch the teapot from the rolling cart it was on and leaned over to pour.  He snatched the pot from me as I straightened and pulled me into his lap, one arm clasped around my waist, before I could do more than squeak.

"I think you will make a lovely wife, Amelia.  You are quiet and obedient, just the way I want.  I’ve enjoyed our little outings.  But before I request your hand, I want to sample the rest of you," he said as his free hand slid up under my skirt.

I jerked in his grasp, beyond shocked at his behavior.  He was not acting at all like the conservative man I had known so far.  ”What-!” was all I had time to get out before he moved his arm to my shoulders and snaked his hand around my neck, pressing his hand to my mouth.  My eyes widened and I squirmed as well as I could with his other hand still sneaking up my leg.

"Oh come now, Amelia," he murmured.  "We both know you are no maiden to be putting up such protests."  He caressed my thigh, almost tenderly.  "I’ve had you followed since I decided to pursue you for marriage.  The only question is, was that shaggy poet the only man you’ve had?"  I tried to say something behind his hand, squeezing my legs together as he neared the apex with his other.  "Shh, dear.  I don’t mind, as long as you remain faithful to me after our engagement.  In fact, I like my women with a little experience.  Makes things interesting."  He pressed his fingers against the top of my mound as I struggled against him, still half in shock from what was happening.  "Now, spread your legs for me so that I can sample what I’m buying."

He moved the hand covering my mouth to press his lips to mine.  I whipped my head back and glared at him.

"Unhand me, sir, you have crossed a line!" I sputtered.  "This is unacceptable-"

His hand was out of my skirt and across my face before I could finish my protests.  My eyes filled with tears from the sting.  My mouth hung open, unable to process what just happened.

"I  _own_  you, girl,” he growled, eyes flashing angrily.  ”Or I will, soon enough.  You will do as I say.”

"No, no, no," I nearly sobbed.  "I am not marrying you, no."  I twisted, trying to get out of his grip.  His hand connected with my face again, making me cry out, before I managed to wrench free and fall to the floor.

My cry brought my parents hurrying back into the room.  David stood from his seat, adjusting his waistcoat.  He turned elegantly to my father, ignoring me sniffling by his feet.

"I will be leaving now, Jonathan.  Your daughter has been associating with all sorts of riff-raff.  She told me of her… experience with these men, in detail.  I am shocked that you could not keep better control over her, honestly."  He headed for the door, my father sputtering and gesturing behind him, trying to understand what had happened.

I looked up to see my mother staring down at me with disgust.  As I wiped my face, careful of the tender spot on my cheek, she shook her head and walked away.

*****

"That was over a year ago.  My parents, they were so ashamed.  And no one would associate with me after Rotham spread rumors, well mostly the truth really…  After a while, they gave up on finding me me a husband and decided that the only thing to do was to send me to a convent, to save face.  There is one in Scotland that takes, um, wayward girls.  That’s where I was going- they hired a coach to take me there, and the driver thought we could make the next town before dark.  The wheel broke on the way, delaying us.  As the coachman was fixing it, the horse spooked from the sound of wolves.  It was just me next to the coach when I heard the wolves much closer…  I panicked and ran into the woods.  And then I was rescued by a handsome stranger," I said, trying to lighten the mood and smiling a little as I looked up at Sebastian.   He was staring at the floor, silent.

I went back to looking at my hands twisted in my lap.  My stomach was in knots, imagining what he was thinking.   _Banker’s daughter?  You are too far below me.  You gave your maidenhead to a poet?  You are a whore.  I know David Rotham, I am insulted by your gross mischaracterization of him._

His smooth, deep voice interrupted my worries.  ”So, you are free?  You are not attached to another man?”  I felt his hand on my lap, grasping one of mine in a gentle grip.  I looked up to see him watching me, his expression unreadable.

"No," I breathed nervously.  "I’m not attached to another man."

He raised my hand to his lips, his mouth warm as he brushed a soft kiss across my skin.  ”Good.”  He smiled at me, then his teeth grazed lightly over a knuckle, making me shudder as a tingle went down my spine.  ”Though I would have fought for you,” he whispered, his voice rough, turning my hand over and nuzzling his face into my palm.  ”Lord Almighty, would I fight tooth and nail to keep you by me.”  My breath caught as his tongue flicked over the pulse in my wrist, as much from his words as from the sensation.  

I could barely breathe when he pulled me to him, holding me against his chest, and my eyes stung with tears.  Soft, happy tears at his words, at his love.  I had suspected, but I hadn’t been completely sure that he returned my feelings.  He stroked my hair, a contented rumble emanating from him.  We sat like that for several long minutes, both of us relaxing into the new sensation of being  _together_.

Sebastian slowly leaned back, tumbling us gently to lie on the bed.  His hand slid up my leg, sneaking under my skirt.  He made a small sound, asking permission, and I gave it.  There was something different this time, something that made my stomach flutter deliciously.  I could still see the animal in his eyes, but it was muted, almost gentled as he watched me.  His touch was soft and playful on my skin, his fingers moving slowly.  There was none of the desperate passion from before; instead there was careful exploration, noticing all my small reactions as his warm fingertips brushed my thigh.  

"You are mine," he murmured.  "And I will not let you go now that I’ve found you."

I leaned closer, about to kiss him when there was a knock on the door.

Sebastian froze, his hand still on my thigh.

“Sebastian,” came Edgar’s authoritative voice from beyond the door.

Sebastian gave a tiny, quiet whine, reluctantly withdrawing from my skirt.  “Will you hide yourself?” he whispered, embarrassed.  “I must handle him delicately… If he finds you here…”

“Of course, love,” I whispered back, scooting off the far side of the bed and wiggling under the frame.  I watched Sebastian’s feet as he went to open the door.  I felt vaguely silly hiding under a bed like a child avoiding her nanny, but I knew how fragile my relationship with Sebastian was.  Edgar clearly held strong feelings about what had happened between him and Geneve, remembering my conversation in the garden.  He would not react well to this.

“Mary told me you were not feeling well,” said Edgar as he came into the room.

“It’s just a headache, nothing to be concerned about.”  Sebastian sounded bored and tired.

Edgar snorted, his next words heavy with insinuation.  “I would imagine your head hurts, after your late night guest.  I can’t think you had a very… restful night.”

“What are you talking about, brother?”  

Edgar closed the distance between him and Sebastian and spoke low enough that I had to strain to hear.  “I saw her leave your room this morning.  What was she doing in your room, Sebastian?  I told you to stay away from her.”  There was an edge to his voice that made me shiver.

“She was afraid of the storm.  She asked if I could distract her with a book, and we ended up talking about a new scientific theory much longer than I intended,” Sebastian said coolly.  The lie flowed smoothly from his lips and there was nothing in his tone to suggest that we had done anything else.

“I hope, for your sake, that that is all that happened, Sebastian.  I will not- no matter what I have to do- I  _will not_ let you hurt another woman.  You know you cannot control yourself.  You are not truly a man, to be able to care for a woman properly.”

I bit my lip hard to keep from making a sound.  Edgar’s words cut through me, making me ache for Sebastian.  I could only imagine how much worse it was for him.  I wanted to burst from my hiding place and defend him, to tell Edgar that he was wrong and to never say such things about my Sebastian again.  I remained hidden, knowing that my sudden appearance would only make things a thousand times worse.

“Do you think you are the only one this is difficult for?” Edgar continued, his voice tinged with sympathy now.  “Do you think you are the only one who desires a pretty young thing to warm your bed?  Do not forget that I am alone here as well.  I have not had a woman longer than you, brother, because I cannot trust the safety of one around you,” he said through gritted teeth.  “Do not mistake my restraint for ignorance.”

There was a low growl from Pack across the room and the wolf began to pace, but Sebastian sounded unruffled.  “Do you want her, Edgar?  Is that what this is about?”

“What I want is for her to be gone.  The weather appears to be turning and soon the road will be dry.  As soon as it is, I will have her in the coach and away from here.”  Edgar sighed.  “In the meantime, I want you to  _stay away from her_.  Lock yourself in here with an excuse of sickness or go for a walk in the woods that lasts days, I care not, but you are not to go near her.”

Sebastian was silent.  I could imagine that they were staring at each other, braced for a fight.  Finally, Edgar walked towards the door, opening it.  I breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Edgar…” Sebastian said quietly.

“Life will go back to normal soon, Bastian,” came the gentle reply.  “Only a few more days.  You can last that long- I know you can.  You do not want another innocent’s blood on your hands.”  He left, the door closing behind him.

I shimmied out from under the bed, brushing off the dirt from the front of my dress.  Sebastian was standing near the fireplace, staring blankly at the floor.  He didn’t look at me as I came closer and laid my hand on his arm.

“It’s not true,” I murmured.  “Those things he said, they’re  _not true_.”  I stood in front of him and slid a finger under his chin, tilting his head up to look at me.  He closed his eyes, but not before I could see the pain he was in.  “Sebastian, listen to me.  You have treated me with nothing but respect and kindness, in a way many men wouldn’t.  You are gentle and intelligent and more concerned with my well-being than I am.”  I smiled, although he couldn’t see it.

When Sebastian spoke, his voice was thick with emotion.  “No… no, he is right.”  He took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes, looking at me with a small, tired smile.  ”But it doesn’t bother you, does it?  You don’t see a demon when you look at me.  You don’t see me as less than any other man.  Oh, Lily…”  He paused.  “I mean Amelia.  I shouldn’t call you Lily anymore, should I?”

“I always disliked the name Amelia,” I admitted.  “I would much rather be Lily.”  I smiled up at him playfully.  “Especially your Lily.”

He smiled back at me, the pain in his eyes receding.  “My Lily,” he whispered, his mouth hovering just a breath from mine for a long moment before he kissed me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! I couldn’t think of a good way to end it, so I went with cliche :) I also didn’t edit it as many times as previous chapters, so hopefully it flows okay.

It was late.  I had been in bed for a while, but couldn’t sleep.  I kept thinking about the day.  It had been a busy, incredible day.  I turned memories over in my head, thoughts of Sebastian and Peter tumbling around and around as I tried to sleep.  I had been so stupid with Peter.  Was I being stupid with Sebastian?  I didn’t think so.  From the moment I had met him, Peter had tried to get into my bed.  His main attraction had been the danger of him, the risk of getting caught, his sweet words and what turned out to be false promises.  Sebastian though… Sebastian was intelligent, witty, gentle- when he wanted to be and I loved it when he wasn’t.  More importantly, he was honest and obviously more concerned about my safety than getting up my skirt.

 

I might have drifted off, it was hard to tell.  I opened my eyes as the mattress beside me moved and I looked up to see a huge black shadow lurking over me, an arm to either side of my body.  I would have screamed, except that as I drew breath to do so I could smell him, that distinct scent of man and wolf that was Sebastian.  I smiled, reaching up for him, slow and sleepy.

He nuzzled his face into my hair, inhaling deeply.  “Please, darling, forgive me for waking you,” he breathed in my ear.  “I need you so badly.”  He grasped one of my hands gently and pressed it to his already hard cock through his trousers.  “Will you have me?”  His mouth drifted down my neck, hot tongue licking over the bruises and bites from the night before.

I squeezed my hand firmly around him, making him groan into my neck and his knees shake even as his hips bucked.  He pulled back to strip away his clothes- very quickly, I noted- watching him as well as I could in the dark.  He was long and lean and pale and my heart beat faster seeing him.  I pulled him to me as he climbed into the bed, kicking the blanket aside and settling him above me.

He resumed his licking, gently caressing every mark he had left before with the tip of his tongue.  “Your scent is intoxicating,” he moaned, hands roaming my body.  ”You smell like desire.  And arousal.   And, peace…”  His voice cracked on the last word, pausing in his exploration for a moment to tighten his grip on me, one hand wrapped under my waist and the other cupping a breast.  ”I couldn’t stop thinking of you.  Your skin, your lips, your hair.  You are so beautiful, Lily…”

I made a small sound, unable to cope with the near-worship he was showing me.  My stomach fluttered delightfully with each compliment, but I was also uncomfortable with such fawning.  ”Are you drunk, Sebastian?” I half-giggled, trying to understand his strange mood, running my fingers through his hair to keep myself from fidgeting.

"No," he murmured as his mouth drifted down to my breast.  "I don’t drink."  His tongue circled my nipple slowly.  "I would lose what control I have over the beast…"  Teeth grazed my sensitive flesh and I moaned, the heat between my legs turning into a low throb.  

 _Oh please, lose control,_ I thought desperately, wanting the fierce grasping and biting and pounding flesh to relieve the ache that was building rapidly as he sucked on one hard nipple and tugged lightly on the other.  My hips pressed upwards, seeking touch, friction, anything.  Sebastian pushed me gently back down, but took pity on me.  A long finger slid through my folds, circling slowly at the top with gentle pressure.

"So wet already," he whispered, surprise tinging his deep voice, even as I writhed under his touch.  "God, you are so eager for me."  He moved his head to kiss me, his lips moving slowly against mine, tongue slipping over my own and exploring me deeply.  I cupped his face in my hands, stroking his sharp cheekbones with my thumbs.  I felt sacred, cherished,  _wanted_  in a way I had never known.  My hands slid to his shoulders as he slipped inside me, moving maddeningly slowly.

"You’re holding back," I pointed out quietly, feeling the tension in his body under my hands, the way his teeth touched me only lightly before withdrawing as quickly as they were there.

"Mmhm," he hummed into my hair.

"You don’t have-"

"I want to," he whispered.  "I want to take my time, to learn your body, to savor every touch, each little sound tonight."

I shivered at the intensity of his voice.  This was a side of him that I hadn’t seen before.  He was so deliberate, paying homage to me in a way both holy and carnal, every motion carefully executed.  I felt his breath on my neck as he kissed my neck, lingering on my pulse.

I trailed my fingers down his back, tracing the muscles with light touches.  I could worship him too.  He was warm and his skin was smooth under my fingers and I had to resist a sudden urge to scratch my fingernails down his back.  Instead, I wrapped my legs around his, tilting my hips up and taking him deeper.  I brushed my lips against his ear, letting him hear the way my breath stuttered when he moved into me.  

"Oh…" he breathed into my neck.  Teeth grazed my skin but didn’t bite, a small moan escaping him.  My hands found his hair and I tangled my fingers in it, pulling his head up for a kiss.  I rocked against him faster, needing completion, needing that moment of joined pleasure.  He resisted for a moment, trying to stay with his deliberate pace, but soon gave over when I whimpered pleadingly into his lips.

We moved together, arching and thrusting faster and harder but still gentler than our previous meetings.  My muscles were tiring, but I didn’t care, desperate to reach the peak and bring him with me.  His breath was uneven, a quiet grunt squeezed from his lips with every thrust.  I barely paid attention to the noises I was making, small little urgent noises as I got closer and closer…

All I heard was the growl that escaped him as he came, his jaw clenched and body stiffening.  One last thrust and I was lost in my own pleasure, clutching his shoulders as an anchor while my own muscles seized around him.  I rocked a few more times, drawing out the sensation as long as possible before my tired body collapsed slowly beneath him.  I smiled as he moved to the side, fitting my body to his with a happy sigh.  I kissed his collarbone lightly, resting a hand on his arm as it came around me, struggling to keep my eyes open.

*****

He gently brushed a bit of hair back from her face.  She snuggled even closer to him and he was struck again by how comfortable she was with him.  She didn’t fear that he would hurt her as she slept, turning into a snarling beast at the least provocation.  She held him close and stroked his arm in slow movements, protesting sleepily when he shifted.

It hadn’t always been like that with Geneve. There was a time she had loved him, he thought.  But it had never been like  _this_.  This passion, this desire, this… acceptance.  Lily had not asked him to send away the wolf, not tried to control him, not asked him to stop being what he was.  She had just… accepted him.  Loved him, for God knows what reason.  

The first night with Geneve… He had been so careful, wanting her to enjoy it, to enjoy  _him_.  He had been slow, gentle, even though every fiber of his being screamed for him to go faster, rougher, harder.  And she had enjoyed it- she had quaked under him in pleasure, tiny moans escaping her lips- until his control had slipped.  He moved faster, desperate to claim her body, and a fierce urge to bite washed over him.  He could almost feel her flesh between his teeth, the give as he bit down, he had to, he had to bite her just there, his mouth was on her skin… and he had flung himself off her, biting hard into a pillow as he spilled onto the quilt.  He opened his eyes, panting, to see her eyes wide with fear, see her move away from him, his angel… He had hung his head, begged her forgiveness, swore never to let it happen again as he pulled the quilt off the bed and curled up on the floor like a cur.  He wished for his wolf to be there, the missing piece of his soul, to comfort him and make him feel safe, but she had insisted that he be kept outside.  She was afraid of him, although he had never so much as growled at her in years.  He huddled on the floor, guilt-ridden and alone.

It had taken weeks of begging and pleading, before she finally allowed him back in her bed.  Their bed.  But she feared him by then and he was frustrated…

"What happens now, Sebastian?" Lily asked softly, breaking him from his revery.

 _Marry me,_  he wanted to say.   _Marry me and let me spend my days proving my love and my nights worshiping your body.  Let me give you children and grow old in your arms.  Let me use the rest of my life to show you what you have given me._ He couldn’t bring himself to actually say it yet, no matter how much his heart ached to.  But how could he ask her to stay, without a promise of marriage?  Especially after what she had told him of her past, how her last lover had treated her

"The weather is changing.  Not as much rain… I want to stay here with you," she continued in a rush while he was lost thought.  Her fingers stroked along his collarbone gently, sending a shiver down his spine, straight to his cock.  How could he be so sated and yet want her still?

"I want you with me as well, Lily.  I will… speak to Edgar tomorrow."  He felt guilty for hedging, for not telling her both that he wanted to marry her and that he was terrified to do so.  He could offer her something else, though, even if it wasn’t enough.  "Lily, I cannot put into words what you mean to me, what you have done for me.  I love you, eternally and with all my heart and soul."  

"Oh, Sebastian," she breathed, a barely audible whisper in a choked voice.  "I love you."

She seemed content to settle closer to him with nothing further being said, sighing a little as she shifted to find just the right position.  Her breathing quickly became deep and even as she fell asleep with her head on his chest, leaving him a bit stunned at the depth of feeling he had for her- nothing even close to what he had voiced.

Gently, slowly, and very reluctantly, he extracted himself from her embrace.  He couldn’t stay the night with her, although he wanted to.  He brushed his lips against her forehead before getting dressed and quietly leaving her room.

He woke with a strange sense of peace in the morning.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so deeply or felt so complete.  There was no voice in his head clamoring for attention, no urges or instincts he needed to stifle, no shame he had to ignore.  He felt… comfortable with himself.

But now…  He ran a hand through his hair, his calm shaken a bit.  Now he had to speak to Edgar.  About Lily and their love and what they had done.  Well, perhaps not  _everything_  they had done.  He smiled to himself at that thought.  The memory of her mouth on him, engulfing him in soft, wet heat…  

He stretched, turning to the side for a moment and imagining Lily there, her face relaxed in sleep with her dark hair spread across the pillow.  Imagined reaching out to caress her cheek until she opened her eyes to see him, gazing at her with love before kissing her, twining his fingers into her hair.  Pulling her close so she could feel his arousal.  Nipping along her jaw and shoulder and arm to pull her fingers into his mouth, his hands ghosting over her body until her eyes are dark with lust, a small “please” on her lips, only then rolling on top of her to slide into her slick depths.  Teeth closing gently on her neck…

With a sudden groan, he forced himself to sit up.  It was never going to happen if he didn’t talk to Edgar first.  His brother was as determined to send Lily away as he was to keep her by his side.  He rubbed his hands harshly over his face, trying to banish the vision of Lily naked under him so that he could figure out exactly how in the world he was going to talk to Edgar.  

He opened his door after getting dressed to find a breakfast tray on the floor.  He sighed, conflicted.  Edgar must have told Mary that he was still ill to make sure that he stayed away from Lily; now if he went down to the dining room, Edgar would be even more suspicious.  Did he stay here and approach Edgar later?  Or did he make his stand now?

Feeling like quite the coward, he picked up the tray and went back into his room.  He told himself that he needed more time to think about what to say, so that he could be persuasive.  But he knew the truth before Pack even pointed out that he was lying to himself.  He was afraid of Edgar.

They had been close as boys.  Edgar had almost always stood up for him with their father or other children.  They had had adventures, fights, and all manner of things in between.  Until they had both fallen for Geneve.  Edgar never really believed that Sebastian was a threat to his courting, otherwise he would have told Sebastian to stay away.  And he would have, since he loved his older brother, no matter how much he adored Geneve.  Edgar had been shocked beyond belief when Geneve had chosen his bookish, cursed brother over him.  Of course, even Edgar had thought then that the wolf was just a very strange pet.  No one really understood.  

The only person he had ever confided in had been his mother.  She hadn’t believed him for a long time.  When she finally did, she brought priests, and even once an old wise woman who called herself a witch, to him in an attempt to break his curse or damnation or disease, whatever she thought he had.  She didn’t know, of course, that the wolf was part of his soul, that they were inseparable in spirit.  When her attempts to drive out his demons failed, she too grew afraid of him, although she tried not to show it.  

After her death- Father always said that if she hadn’t been so weakened by worrying about his curse she would have survived the fever- things only got worse.  Father nearly stopped talking to him altogether until his own death ten years later.  That had been shortly before Geneve accepted his proposal; Father likely would not have allowed the marriage at all.  For those years, Edgar and Geneve- when they saw her- were his only human company.  Until the wedding.  Until she lived with him and he was unable to hide the beast inside…

He sighed and glanced out the window.  It was late enough.  Edgar was likely in his study by now.  The sun was shining brightly, which normally he would enjoy but now it felt like a looming threat.  He couldn’t-  _wouldn’t_  put it off any longer.  His steps were slow as he walked towards Edgar’s study, though, trailed by his wolf.

He knocked and waited for Edgar to call enter.  He rarely came here and, to be honest, wasn’t sure what Edgar did in here beyond the accounting.  He was not much of a scholar.  But the rain and mud had kept him from exercising his horses, which was his normal activity.  As he entered, he noticed Edgar shoving something under a pile of papers.   _Was that a dirty French postcard?_  he thought, amused briefly.  That would explain some of what Edgar did in here.

“Bastian,” Edgar said slowly, still seated behind his desk.  He looked unhappy already, as if he knew what Sebastian was going to say.

Sebastian remained standing, ignoring the spindle chair in the corner that he could have brought over.  With difficulty, he kept his hands still at his sides, although he wanted to twist them together anxiously.  He and Edgar were not close any longer, but the man had been far more than a brother to him for many years.  Losing Edgar’s support had hurt him almost as badly as Geneve’s death itself.  It had taken a long time after that, but they had established a mostly comfortable coexistence.  He was terribly reluctant to ruin that, even if he needed Lily as much as he needed air.

“Edgar.  I need to talk to you about-”

Before he could get any farther, Edgar was on his feet, looking at him suspiciously.  “You didn’t,” he hissed.

Sebastian blinked in surprise.  “Didn’t what?”

Edgar stalked around the desk, putting Sebastian on the defensive.  He stepped further back into the room, tamping down on the beast inside that demanded he growl and threaten.  That would not help now.  “You have been with her, haven’t you?  After I specifically told you to stay away from her.”

This wasn’t going at all the way he had thought it would.  He hadn’t expected joyous congratulations, but this aggression was shocking.  Had Edgar always felt this way towards him?  Sebastian knew that Edgar had never forgiven him for Geneve’s death, but he hadn’t known that he still harbored such rage.

“Do you really want another woman’s death on your hands, Bastian?  Have you forgotten Geneve?” Edgar spat.

“Of course not!”  It was getting harder to control the beast; it was clamoring inside him to snarl and fight.  “In the six years since she… There hasn’t been an _hour_  that I haven’t mourned her.  I will never forget Geneve, what happened- but Lily-”

Edgar made a frustrated, angry noise.  “You are a monster, Sebastian-”

“I  _am_ _not_!” he yelled, the hurt that always followed those words sparking his anger further.  He couldn’t listen to that anymore, not after Lily.  She didn’t see him as a monster or unnatural.  He didn’t want to see himself that way either.  “She loves me.  I have not hurt her.  She is not Geneve!”  He knew he was saying the same things to Edgar that Lily had said to him, and that he hadn’t believed her.  Edgar wouldn’t be swayed either, but they were the only words-  _her_  words- he could think of while the beast raged in him.  It screamed for him to fight, to secure his claim on Lily, to bite…  Pack rumbled quietly next to him, leaning against his leg.  The weight calmed him a bit.  

“No, Sebastian, this  _can’t happen_ ,” Edgar said, strangely quietly.

Sebastian was taken completely by surprise as Edgar whipped a book at his head.  He twisted, letting the book hit him on his shoulder blade.  He turned back to demand an answer, but Edgar had left the room and the door was just slamming shut behind him.  Sebastian dove for the door and yelled in frustration when he found it locked from the outside.  He knew Edgar wouldn’t physically hurt Lily, but fear ran through his veins like ice as he wondered what Edgar  _would_  do.

*****

Edgar burst into the parlor, spotting me reading by the window, my mouth gaping from his sudden entrance.  Before I could say anything, he was grabbing my arm.

“You are leaving, now,” he ordered.  “We’re going to the stable and I will ride with you to town.”

I tried to shake him off as he hauled me to my feet.  “No, milord, wait-”

He tightened his grip, dragging me behind him.  He was much stronger than I was and I had no hope of getting away.  The best that I could do was to drag my feet, slowing us.  “Wait!” I yelled again.  “Sebastian- where’s Sebastian?”

“What does it matter?  You are nothing to him but a bother.  Come  _on_ ,” he snarled, yanking on me hard enough to make me stumble against him.

I knew his words weren’t true, but they still stung a bit.  “I am not leaving!”  I squirmed, kicking my heels into his shins as best I could in my dress, trying to prevent him from carrying me bodily from the house.  It didn’t work.  “Sebastian!” I screamed as loudly as I could.  I heard a howl- Pack’s howl- but it was muffled and far away.  Where were they?

Edgar wrestled me outside, and began to drag me towards the stable.  I slowed him down as best I could, but I wasn’t particularly strong.  He was much taller than I was and his arms were wrapped solidly around my waist.  I kicked hard, arching my back, trying to break his grip.  I wasn’t leaving without Sebastian.  He cursed as his grip faltered and I slithered to the ground.

“God  _damn it_ , woman!  I’m helping you!” he yelled, catching me as I bolted for the manor door.  His arm was around my waist, my back to his chest as I flailed, but I was facing the door as Sebastian finally came through it at a dead run.  Edgar saw too and cursed again.  He flung me to the side, where I landed with a scrape and thud.  Sebastian and Pack both growled menacingly, Pack’s hackles up.  Before I could scramble to my feet, Edgar had pulled a pistol from his coat and was pointing it at Sebastian, who was frozen in shock.

“No further, Bastian,” he gasped.  “I  _told_  you I would do anything to stop you from hurting another person.”

Sebastian glanced at me, eyes roaming me for injuries.  I stood carefully, brushing off my dress and meeting his eyes.   _I’m fine.  Don’t push him.  I’m fine,_  I thought, wishing it was my thoughts he could hear instead of Pack’s.  He looked back at Edgar, his face twisted into a snarl.

“It looks like you’re the one hurting her right now,” he snapped, then took a deep breath, clearly trying to stay calm, his hands open at his sides.  “This is _different_.  If you would just  _listen_.  This is not the same as before-”

“No.  No, this is exactly the same as before.  You have lied to her, tricked her, and you will eventually kill her.”  Edgar’s hand tightened on the gun, steadying his aim.

I could see it, I could see how just one little motion and he would squeeze the trigger.  I could see the blood as Sebastian died, the way Pack would scream.  The way I would scream.  

“Stop this!” I shouted, throwing myself between the brothers, surprising even myself.  Sebastian cried out behind me and Edgar inhaled sharply, swinging the pistol off to the side and away from me.  “Edgar!  Are you really going to _shoot_  your brother over this?”

Edgar narrowed his eyes at me.  “You don’t understand what you’re getting into.  Geneve-”

“ _Hang_  Geneve!” I stomped my foot, fed up with them both.  “You are both so consumed with her, this picture of her as the perfect woman, that you’ve completely forgotten what she was really like!  Her death was tragic, yes.  You can’t let it destroy you both, leaving you broken with nothing but anger left, living in an empty house and waiting to die!  How many years have you missed, wasted with your grudges and your misery and your refusal to  _move on_?”  I looked from one brother to the other.  “No one should live like this.  Edgar, Sebastian has found some measure of peace.  You are free to find your own happiness.  You don’t have to be tied here.  I will take care of him.  Find someone to love you, then bring her back here and show her the gardens, tell her about the rosebush.  Introduce her to your brother and his wife, because we will  _both_  be here.”

There was a long, long silence.  Edgar looked from me to Sebastian and back again.  Pack paced between us, torn between standing with me or Sebastian.  When he came back to me, I ran my hand over his head.  Edgar watched my hand like a hawk.  _I am not afraid,_  I tried to convey.  _I am strong, more than strong enough to love him for all that he is._   I stood straight, my eyes glued to Edgar, even as Pack sat at my feet and I continued petting him.  The gun wavered in the blond man’s hand, as if he were still considering shooting Sebastian.

Then he uncocked the pistol and placed it carefully on the ground.  Without a word to either of us, he turned and walked away.  I nearly started after him, to demand an explanation from him, but Sebastian’s arms were around me, pinning me to his chest.

“Let him go, for now,” he murmured.  “He needs time to think.  But he will let us be, I am sure of it.”  He turned me to face him.  “How could you risk yourself like that?” he asked sharply, mood shifting suddenly.  “He could have shot you!”  He clung to me, tears in his eyes.  “I could have lost you.”

I stroked his cheek with trembling fingers, as I fully processed what had just happened.  “You, my love, are worth dying for.”  I kissed him, tenderly and softly, even as my knees shook.  “But I’m glad I didn’t have to.”

*****

I followed Sebastian through the woods, wishing I was half as graceful as he was as I tripped over another rock or root or hole.  He had said very little when he found me working in the garden, just insisted that I come with him with an eager little smile on his face.  I had brushed the dirt off my skirt- a simple wool one for working- and followed.  I had had no idea he intended to drag me out to the middle of the forest.

It had been a month since Edgar had tried to force me to leave.  Sebastian had been right; after a few hours to calm down, Edgar had returned, albeit still angry.  But he hadn’t suggested that I leave after that.  It took a few more weeks, but it seemed that he was grudgingly coming to accept my relationship with Sebastian.

As far as that relationship went, though, life was as perfect as I could imagine.  Days spent enjoying Sebastian’s library with Pack sprawled across my feet or tending the neglected plants in the garden.  And nights… Nights spent in passionate embraces, exploring each other with a hunger that seemed to never be satisfied, falling asleep curled around each other.  I sighed a little as I walked, touching my neck where a rather impressive love bite was half-exposed.

Sebastian heard me and glanced back.  He saw my hand and his brow creased with concern.  ”Does that hurt?”

I smiled at his obvious worry and took his hand, squeezing it firmly.  ”No, love, I was just remembering how it got there.  And how much I enjoyed it.”  I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, my smile turning into a grin.  I wondered when, or if, he would stop being so concerned about my safety around him.  We continued into the forest, the sunlight filtering through the trees warm on our backs.  We stopped in a small clearing, caused by a huge tree falling and creating a gap in the canopy.

Sebastian pointed to a hollow spot under the massive tree trunk with an expression that was an adorable mix of shy and eager.  ”There.  That’s where I found Pack when he was a pup.  We come here often; it’s a very special place for us.  I’ve never brought anyone else.”

I looked at the hollow and then at the massive wolf sniffing the ground nearby, trying to imagine a little Sebastian and a black wolf cub finding each other.  He certainly wouldn’t fit in there now.  ”What happened to his family?” I asked quietly.

"We don’t know exactly.  I think they left him here for me.  I knew I had to come find him… I walked and walked in the woods, drawn by… something… to here.  To him."  Pack came over to nuzzle Sebastian’s hand briefly and Sebastian scratched the wolf’s chin absently.

I knelt down and rubbed and tugged on Pack’s ears the way I knew he liked.  ”Well, now that we’ve got Sebastian taken care of,” I whispered conspiratorially to him.  ”It’s time you find a lady as well.  We can build you a lovely kennel for her and your pups, right, Sebastian?”  I glanced up to see Sebastian staring at me with a strange, vacant expression.

"What was that?" he asked, shaking his head and focusing back on me.

"I said we would build a cozy house for Pack and his family when he finds a mate."  I stood up, reaching for Sebastian.  "Are you well?"

"Oh.  Yes.  I am.  Yes."

I was unconvinced.  His face still held a strange look and he seemed distracted.  I was about to ask him again, but he pulled me hard to him and lowered his head to nuzzle my hair.

"He loves you almost as much as I do, you know," he murmured.

He paused, taking a deep breath, tightening his grip on me.  I leaned into him, closing my eyes and savoring for a moment his warmth and his unique scent.

"My love," he breathed against my skin, his lips ghosting over the bruise on my neck.  I shivered from the light touch, my skin tingling.  "I cannot…  You don’t know what you mean to me, what you’ve done for me.  When I am with you, I feel complete, at peace, like I never have before.  You are my air, my water, my light."  He pulled back slightly and brought my hand to his mouth, placing gentle kisses on my knuckles, looking deep in my eyes.  “Lily… I-  Would you-  Will you be my wife?”  

I ran my fingers through his hair, tears stinging my eyes as I looked up at him.  “Oh yes, Sebastian,” I whispered through the lump in my throat.  I hadn’t expected him to consider marriage so soon, or possibly ever, after what had happened to him before.  No wonder he had been acting so strangely.

He took another shuddering breath, then suddenly dropped to his knees in the scraggly grass, clutching my waist and pressing his face into my belly.  He looked up at me, his own eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and I smiled at him. “Oh, dearest, I am always yours,” I murmured, stroking his soft hair back from his face.  ”Always.”


	7. Bitten - A Black Wolf Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They just popped into my head out of nowhere and demanded that I tell this little story. I honestly don’t know where it came from. A little more than a drabble, a little less than a one shot, possibly an epilogue. It’s a little sexy, a little fluffy, a lot sappy. Takes place about three years after their marriage. Un-beta’d, barely edited :)

“My love, please…”

The voice, tinged with desperation, pulled me from my dozing, floating state.  I could smell the pine and petrichor that said he must have just been in the woods, feel him pressed naked against my back, his hands rucking up my nightgown warm and rough.

“Mmm, Sebastian,” I mumbled, smiling sleepily.  “Whatever you want.”

He pressed his face into my neck, licking at the sheen of perspiration left there from my fever.  Over and over, long, hot swipes of his tongue, tasting my skin, interspersed with whimpers and whines.  I reached back to tangle my fingers in his hair, trying to soothe him, calm him- he always acted more canine when he was upset, the urgency practically vibrating in his bones.

His hands slid up, over my stomach to cup my breasts, fingers teasing at my nipples until they were hard and aching.  He pulled me back closer to him, rubbing his erection against my buttocks, long and velvet smooth.  “Please,” he pleaded again.

As if I would refuse him.  I hooked my leg back over his thigh, opening myself to him, tugging gently at his hair.  He inhaled deeply, the scent my arousal making him growl.  I shuddered at the sound- the sound that was desire, love, and reverence all in one.  It had been too long, too many nights without him and now that he was here, I was nearly as desperate as he was.

Sebastian filled me in a slow, languid stroke, taking his time even when I canted my hips back to take him deeper with a moan.  He paused, holding himself so still, as far inside me as he could be.  His muscles thrummed under my hand when I moved my hand from his hair to cup his buttock.  

“You were so sick…” he whispered, mournful, scared.  “So hot, so pale.  Beth said not to come in, not to see you so I wouldn’t get sick, but I had to.  You were still as death.  Lily… Don’t do that again.  Don’t leave me, don’t leave me…”

The last he repeated over and over as he moved, gentle, careful.  My poor Sebastian, so afraid of his happiness being shattered again.  He slipped a hand down to play in my wet folds, stroking with exploratory deliberation, as if he’d forgotten what I felt like in the week I’d been fevered.  I moved with him, rocking to the rhythm he set until there was nothing but the feel of him inside me, completing me, making us one.  I lost myself in the sound of his breathing, shallow and ragged in my ear, betraying how hard he was working to cradle me, to thrust with precision not force, to keep his fingers twisting gently at my nipple.  We climbed together, him exploring me with hands and cock and mouth, me floating on the safety of his arms and unity of our bodies.

I knew what I needed.  I knew what  _he_  needed.  I knew why he wasn’t doing it.  “Sebastian, please,” I whimpered, begging as sweetly as I could.  “Bite me, please, love…”

I thought he would hesitate, as he still so often did, entreaties still falling from my lips when he sunk his teeth into my shoulder, his deep growl thrilling me as much as the sting of the bite that I craved.  I cried out wordlessly, my gratitude and love and joy wetting his hand as I clenched around him.  My back arched when he spilled inside me, a fierce thrust on the heels of my orgasm, held suspended, held to the earth, between his mouth and his cock.

He rolled onto his back, pulling me against his chest so that I could hear his heart pounding.  I lay a kiss there, knowing my own heart might as well be kept in his ribs.  It belonged to him.  He traced the mark of his teeth on my shoulder with such a light touch I barely felt it.

“How many times, and you still doubt it?” I murmured, turning to look at him.

His mouth twisted, a bit of guilt in his smile at having been caught.  “Every time.  Every one, Lily.  I will never take for granted what you give me when you let me bite you.”

I snorted.  “Let you, nothing, love.  I need it as much as you do.”  I stroked his hair back from his face, smoothed over his cheekbones, ran my thumb over his lips before kissing him, as sweet and fierce and burning as I had dreamed in my delirium.

We lay together for a few moments longer, basking in each other until Sebastian spoke again.

“Can I bring him in?  He’s missed you so much.  Are you up to it?”

I nodded, beaming.  “Of course, yes, oh yes!”

I missed his warmth as he pulled away, but I thoroughly enjoyed watching him dress- long and lean and pale.  He returned to kiss me once more then he was gone, leaving me licking my lips for a last taste of him.  I combed my fingers through my hair, touched the lightly throbbing mark on my neck, stacked the pillows better behind me so that I could sit up better, passing the time until they returned.

My heart leapt out of my chest when the door opened again, seeing the unruly raven hair first and then the tiny face it framed- chubby little cheeks scrunching up towards bright blue eyes in a gleeful, joyful grin.  He ran towards me in that awkward way of babies who haven’t quite figured out how to bend their knees while walking, careening as he picked up too much speed.

“Ma-MA, ma-MA, ma-MA,” he jabbered happily, holding out his arms to me.

Sebastian caught up to him and swung him up onto the bed and I had tears streaming down my cheeks as I clutched him to me, pressing my face to his hair.  “Daniel, Daniel-darling, Mama missed you so much.”

The boy didn’t stay still for much longer, giving up his snuggles for the more interesting pursuit of catching Papa’s hand moving under the quilt.  I missed his warm, heavy little body in my lap, but my heart swelled at the sight of them.  My men.  My loves.  Sebastian had been terrified when I became pregnant, certain that doom was coming for all of us.  I was half-certain that he would have bolted to live in a cave in Scotland rather than watch me go through childbirth.  He made himself sick with worry, pacing his study late at night or crying into my neck at the thought of his child inheriting his wolf-bond or of me dying, leaving him alone with the baby.  It wasn’t until he came inside one day from his garden and found me curled up asleep with Pack in front of the fire, the wolf’s head on my growing stomach, that Sebastian calmed somewhat about the first, but nothing eased the second.

He refused to hold the baby for the first week.  His hands trembled with fear of hurting his son.  Pack, however, licked the boy at every opportunity, thrilled to have a new member to his pack.  If the wolf had been able to fit in the cradle, I’m sure I would have found him inside it every morning.  Sebastian would not give in to my pleading or my logic until one day, unable to be patient with him any longer, I had shoved Daniel at him and simply let go.

Sebastian clutched the little bundle to keep him from falling, as I knew he would.  He stared down at his son, tears in his eyes, tracing one tiny cheek with his finger over and over.  It had taken time, but he had blossomed into the role of father, becoming the man I had always seen in him.  The fear that had plagued him his whole life lessened; he smiled more, laughed louder, shared affection easier.  He was more comfortable in his skin and it showed especially when he was with his son.  I couldn’t have been prouder of them, my little family.

The boy now clambered across me, stepping on my stomach and grabbing a fistful of hair for balance on his way to the other side of the bed.  “Ow!” I groused.

“Don’t be rough with Mama, pup,” Sebastian scolded gently.  I glanced up to find him watching me and the look in his eyes stole my breath away.  “That’s my job,” he said, running his fingertip over the bite mark again with a secret smile.

I smiled back, kissing his hand.  “And you do it oh-so-well, my love.” 


End file.
